Spain in 1830

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SPAIN IN 1830.

By the same Authoj-,
In 2 vols., Post 8vo., Price 16s.

SOLITARY WALKS THROUGH MANY LANDS,

—with TALES and LEGENDS.

The descriptions are diversified and graphic, — the tales introduced, in-
teresting and clever, — and the author's narrative style, sprightly and un-
affected. — New Monthly Magazine.

It is all pleasing, and always interesting, — the author has at once the
eye of a keen observer, and the pen of a ready writer. — Atheiueum.

SPAIN IN 1830.

HENRY D. INGLIS,

AUTHOR OF " SOI>ITARY WALKS THROUGH MANY LANDS;" "a JOURNEY
THROUGH NORWAY," &C. &C.

IN TWO VOLS.

VOL. I.

LONDON:

VVHITTAKER, TREACHER, AND CO.. AVE-MARIA LANE.
1831.

PlINTED BY S. MANNING AND CO.
Lon<ioii.lioiisc-\ ;ii(l, St. Paul's.

6/-

iS*:*^-^

^- /^/7

V. I

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

HENRY DAVID,
EARL OF BUCHAN.

My dear Lord,

Since I parted from your Lordship, eight
years ago, on the bridge of Namur, changes
have happened both to you and to myself.
You have become a Lord, — I have become
an author. When a man acquires a handle
to his name, all the world knows it; but
when a man begins to handle his pen, it is a
chance whether any one knows it but himself.
It is very likely, therefore, that your Lordship
may be as ignorant upon this point, as 1 fear

VI DEDICATION.

the rest of the world are ; but it will doubt-
less surprise your Lordship to be told, that
upon you I lay all my sins of authorship.

It was in those daily and delightful strolls
on the banks of the Meuse, that you inspired
me with the desire of hunting the wild boar
in the forest of Ardennes ; and when I went
to bury myself there, — at the time that your
Lordship sought the busier scenes of Paris, —
I carried with me that little green writing-
desk and its golden key, the gift of the la-
mented Mrs. Erskine. Figure to yourself,
my Lord, my isolated dwelling, with six feet
of snow around my doors,— no companion
but my great shaggy dog, and my blazing
faggots, and the little green writing-desk
upon a table by my side, — and your Lord-
ship will admit, that I could not do other-
wise than use the golden key and blot my
paper.

The dedication of my first book was there-
fore most certainly due to your Lordship;
but besides its own unworthiness, another

DEDICATION. VU

reason, applicable to all that I have subse-
quently written, hindered me from laying at
your feet this tribute of affection and respect.
I was then younger than I am now, and
probably more foolish ; and asking the notice
of the Public under a fictitious name, your
Lordship would have said, " who is this
Derwent Conway, who impertinently ad-
dresses me. My dear Lord, and subscribes
himself my Cousin?" But Spain is a coun-
try so associated with romance, that a ficti-
tious name to a book of travels in that coun-
try, might almost warrant the conclusion,
that the book was altogether a fiction : and
so now throwing off this veil which was un-
meaningly assumed, I take this earliest op-
portunity of making your Lordship's ac-
quaintance in the character of an author.

Sweet shades of Ammondell ! I remember
them well, — that Gothic bridge, that planta-
tion that skirts the river ; where, when a
boy, " just let loose from school," 1 used
to be met and welcomed by that fine, grey-

Vlll DEDICATION.

headed man, your Lordship's sire, — the ele-
gant, the learned, the witty, the eloquent,
the consistent politician, the upright man,
the unrequited ; — Ay ! the unrequited ; hea-
ven rest His soul ! who remembered not his
friends in the day of His prosperity.

It is difficult to tear oneself from the
"deep solitudes" and quiet glades of Am-
mondell ; and I know that your Lordship
enjoys there the elegancies of life — the
delights of rural retirement — and the sweets
of literary leisure ; but your honourable
father had battled with the world, and in
the cause of independence and freedom,
before he retired to the tranquil shades of
the Amnion, and said —

Give me a nook in some secluded spot
That business shuns, and din approaches not ;
Some quiet retreat, where I may never know
Which monarch reigns, — what ministers bestow.

Your Lordship inherits the genius, with
the titles of your family ; and it were a

DEDICATION. IX

J^v' noble spectacle to see the Aristocracy of
C^ the land stand forth, the champion of

Political Liberty, and lending the weight
of its influence to the claims of those who
have only right and reason on their side.
Forgive, my dear Lord, this boldness ; which
must only be attributed to the respect and
great regard with which I have the honor
to subscribe myself.

Your Lordship's aftectionate Cousin,

HENRY DAVID INGLIS.

Barcellona^ Jan. 2nd, 1831.

CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

CHAPTER I.

BISCAY.

PAGE

Departure from Bayonne, the Bidassoa, and entrance into
Spain ; Precautions against Robbery ; Black Mail, and
Anecdote ; Charming and novel Scenery ; Mail Ti'avelling
in Spain : Vittoria ; Spanish Bread ; Priests ; the Spanish
Cloak; Women; Arrival of the Infante Don Francis; a
National Trait ; Spanish Money and Expense of Travel-
ling ; Journey through Biscay to Bilbao ; Chocolate ; the
Plain of Vittoria; Passage of the Biscayan Mountains;
Durango; a Village Misfortune; Biscayan Recreation;
the Muleteer's Song; Bilbao; Traits of Spanish Charac-
ter ; Markets ; Biscayan Political and Religious Opinions ;
State of the Inhabitants, and Mode of Life; Riches of the
Corporation of Bilbao ; Prices of Provisions ; the Campo
Santo ; the Iglesia de Bigonia and its Superstitions ; Trait
of Spanish Pride and Generosity ; the Convents and their
Inmates ; the Hospital ; cmious Customs, and extraor-
dinary scene in a Coffee House ; Improvement of Land
in Biscay, Climate, Disease, &c. ; peculiar Rights and
Privileges of Biscay ... i

VI CONTENTS.

CHAPTER II.

JOURNEY FROM BISCAY TO MADRID.

PAGE

Waggon Travelling ; Scenery ; Bills of Fare, and Expenses ;
Second Visit to Vittoria; Departure for Madrid; the Ebro;
Privileges of the Military ; Old Castile ; Husbandry ;
Burgos ; Beggars ; Posadas ; Traits of Misery in a Cas-
tilian Village ; New Castile ; Quixotic Adventure ; the
Somo-Sierra, and Approach to the Capital; Sketches of
the Environs, and Arrival in Madrid ; Information for
Travellers. - - - - - - 44

CHAPTER III.

MADRID.

Streets and Street Population ; Female Dress : the Mantilla ;
the Fan; Aspect of the Streets of Madrid at different
hours ; the Siesta ; Shops ; Good and Bad Smells ; State
of the Lower Orders ; Analysis of the Population ; Street
Sketches; Sunday in Madrid; the Calle de Alcala; Con-
vents ; the Street of the Inquisition ; Private Apartments
in Madrid; the Pi-ado and its Attractions; Ludicrous
Incongruities ; Spanish Women, and their Claims ; the
Fan and its Uses ; Portraits ; Inconvenient Exaction of
Loyalty ; the Philosophy of Good Walking ; the Retiro ;
CastiHan Skies ; the Cafe Catalina and its Visitors ; other
Coffee Rooms, and Political Reflections ; the Botanical
Garden, strange Regulation on entering ; the Theatres ;
Spanish Play Bills ; Teatro del Principe ; the Cazuela and
Intrigue ; Spanish Comedy ; the Bolero ; the Italian Com-
pany ; Cultivation of Music in Madrid ; the Guitar ;
Vocal Music ; Spanish Music - - - - 65

CONTENTS. Vll

CHAPTER IV.

MADRID.

PAGE

The King, Queen, and Royal Family ; Personal Appearance
of Fei'dinand; a Royal Jeu d'esprit ; the King's Confidence
in the People, and Examples ; Character of the King ; a
Carlist's Opinion of the King ; Favourites, — Calomarde,
— Alegon, — Salsedo, — the Duque d'Higar; Rising In-
fluence of the Queen ; Habits of the Royal Family ; Court
Diversions ; Rivalry of Don Carlos ; the Queen's Ac-
couchement, and Views of Parties ; Detection of a Carlist
Plot ; the Salic Law ; Court Society ; Persons of Distinc-
tion, and Ministerial Tertulias; Habits and Manner of
Life of the Middle Classes ; a Spanish House, and its
Singular Defences ; Abstemiousness of the Spaniards ;
Evening and Morning Visits ; Balls and Spanish Dancing;
Character of Spanish Hospitality ; Spanish Generosity and
its Origin ; Examples of Ostentation ; Morals ; Gallantry
and Intrigue; the Morals of the Lower Orders ; Religious
Opinions in the Capital, and Decline of the Priestly In-
fluence ; Jesuitical Education ; the Influence of the Friars ;
Causes of the Decline of Priestly Influence, and the Con-
tinuance of that of the Friars ; Convent Secrets ; Curious
Expos^ at Cadiz ; Devotion in Madrid - - 112

CHAPTER V.

MADRID.

The Profession of a Nun ; Reflections ; Description of the
Interior of a Convent; the Monastic Life; Description of
a Bull-Fight ; Sketches of Spanish Character ; a Horse
Race - ' - - - - - 168

Vlll CONTENTS.

CHAPTER VI.

PAGE.

Memoir of Murillo - - - - - -203

CHAPTER Vn.

MADRID.

The Picture Gallery; the Works of Murillo; the Annuncia-
tion ; the Virgin Instructed by her Mother ; Landscapes ;
Velasquez and his Works ; Meeting of Bacchanalians ; the
Forges of Vulcan ; Espanoletto and his Works ; Villan-
cencio; Juanes; AlonzoCano; Cerezo; Morales; Juanes'
Last Supper ; the Modern Spanish School ; Aparicio ;
the Famine in Madrid; Italian Gallery; Flemish School;
the Sala Reservada ; Statuary ; Cabinet of Natural His-
tory; Sala Reservada ; the Patrician's Dream; the Dese7i-
gano de la Vida ; Private Collections ; the Duke of Liria's
Gallery ; Churches and Convents ; Church of San Isodro ;
San Salvador ; Santa Maria ; San Gines ; Santiago ; San
Antonio de Florida ; Convent of Las Salesas ; de la En-
carnation ; the Franciscans ; Santa Isabella ; Hidden Pic-
tures ; San Pasqual ; Santa Teresa ; the Palace. - 233

CHAPTER Vni.

Literature ; Difficulties to be encountered by Authors ; the
Book Fair ; Digression respecting the Claims of Spain to
Gil Bias; Public and Private Literary Societies; Libraries;
Obstacles to Improvement, from the State of Society ; Fe-
male Education ; Education for the Liberal Professions ;
Course of Study for the Bar; Course of Medical Studies;
Charitable Institutions ; Consumption of Madrid ; Prices of
Provisions. -.--._ 265

CONTENTS. IX

CHAPTER IX.

PAGE

State of Parties, and Political Pi'ospects. - . . 293

CHAPTER X.

THE ESCURIAL— ST. ILDEFONSO— SEGOVIA.

Journey from Madrid ; First View of the Escurial ; Pliilip II. ;
Situation of the Escurial ; the Church ; Lucas Jordan ; the
Relics ; the Santa Forma ; the Sacristy and its Pictures ;
a Reverie ; the Hall of Recreation ; the Library ; the
Tomb of the Kings ; the Manuscript Library ; Ignorance
and Idleness of the Monks, and Anecdotes ; Manner of
Life among the Monks ; the Palace ; Particulars of the
Extent and Cost of the Escurial; Pedestrian Journey
across the Sierra Guaderrama to Ildefonso ; the Palace,
Waters, and Garden of La Granja ; Road to Segovia ; its
Remains, and Present Condition ; Expensiveness of Royal
Honours ; Return to Madrid - - _ . 328

CHAPTER XI.

TOLEDO.
Journey from Madrid; Proofs of the backwardness of Spain;
Appearance of the Covmtry ; Spanish Mule-driving ; a
Venta ; First View of Toledo ; Toledo Recreations and
Society ; Remains of Former Grandeur, and Proofs of
Present Decay ; Picturesque Views ; the Tagus ; Intricacy
of Toledo; Bigotry and Priestcraft; Reasons for the Pre-
valence of Religious Bigotry in Toledo ; Proofs of Bigo-
try ; Aspect of the Population ; the Cathedral and its
Riches ; Scene in the Cathedral ; the Alcazar ; Historical
Retrospect ; Praiseworthy Institutions of the Archbishop
Lorenzana; the University; Toledo Sword Manufactory;
the Franciscan Convent ; Return to Madrid - - 305

SPAIN IN 1830.

CHAPTER I

BISCAY.

Departiive from Bayonne, the Bidassoa, and entrance into Spain ;
Precautions against Robbery ; Black Mail, and Anecdote ;
Charming and novel Scenery ; Mail travelling in Spain ; Vitto-
ria; Spanish Bread; Priests; the Spanish Cloak; Women; Ar-
rival of the Infante Don Francis; a National trait; Spanish
Money and expense of Travelling ; Journey through Biscay to
Bilbao ; Chocolate ; the Plain of Vittoria ; Passage of the Bis-
cayan Mountains; Diu-ango; a Village Misfortune; Biscayan
Recreation; the Muleteer's Song; Bilbao; Traits of Spanish
Character ; Markets ; Biscayan Political and Religious Opinions ;
State of the Inhabitants and mode of Life; Riches of the
Coi-poration of Bilbao ; Prices of Provisions ; the Campo
Santo; the Iglesia de Bigonia and its Superstitions; Trait of
Spanish Pride and Generosity; the Convents and their Inmates ;
the Hospital ; curious Customs, and extraordinary scene in a
Coffee House; Improvement of .Land in Biscay, Climate, Dis-
eases, &c. ; peculiar Rights and Privileges of Biscay.

I left England in the early part of the spring of
1830, with the intention of visiting Spain ; and
taking a circuitous route through the Southern
parts of France, to Bayonne, I left that city on
the 14th of May, by the Madrid Courier, for
Vittoria, and in a few hours we crossed the
Bidassoa and entered Spain,
vol.. I. B

2 SPAIN IN 1830.

It is impossible to enter any foreign country
for the first time, without experiencing some
mental excitement ; and it seems to me, that
among all the countries of Europe, Spain is the
most calculated to awaken interest and expecta-
tion : for even if it were possible to forget all that
links the history of Spain with Carthagenian
enterprise, and Roman ambition, and Moorish
grandeur, the present condition of the country,
and the desire of gratifying curiosity, respecting
the manners, character, and condition of the
Spanish people, would still be sufficient to
justify a strong feeling of excitement.

When I had crossed the Bidassoa, I knew
that I was in Spain ; and every object imme-
diately acquired a new interest. Three several
demands for my passport, within the short space
of ten minutes, had not the effect of putting me
out of humour ; I was prepared for inconveni-
ences greater than this, in journeying through a
country so little visited as Spain, and had wisely
laid in a stock of philosophy to meet them all.

The frontier town of Spain, Irun, lies within
half a league of the Bidassoa : it is an insigni-
ficant village, no way calculated to create a
favourable impression ; but it is improper to
form any judgment of a country, from the places
that lie along its frontier. At Irun, the mail

SPAIN IN 1831). O

stops a short time ; and before proceeding on
its journey, formidable precautions are taken
against the possibility of robbery. I saw three
carabines, and four cases of pistols, deposited
about the coach ; and three additional guards,
each armed with a long sabre, took their seats
behind and in the cabriolet. These preparations
naturally create doubts in the mind of the tra-
veller, as to his personal safety : nor are these
altogether without foundation : there is undoubt-
edly some exaggeration on the subject of robbery
of the public conveyances in Spain ; but it is
certain, that the mails are occasionally stopped,
especially in the southern parts. It is beneath
the dignity of the government, to enter into a
treaty with banditti, for the safety of the mails ;
and as resistance must be made in case of an
attack, the traveller by the mail is necessarily
placed in a dangerous position ; but in the dili-
gence, he runs comparatively little risque. I
can state, upon certain information received in
Madrid, that every one of the principal Spanish
diligences, with the exception of that from Bar-
cellona to Perpignan, pays Black Mail to the
banditti for their protection. This arrangement
was at first attended with some difficulty ; and
from a gentleman who was present at the
interview between the person employed to

B 2

4 SPAIN IN 1S3I1

negotiate on behalf of the diligences, and the
representative of the banditti, 1 learned a few
particulars. The diligences in question were
those between Madrid and Seville ; and the sum
offered for their protection was not objected to ;
but another difficulty was started : "I have
nothing to say against the terms you offer," said
the negotiator for the banditti, " and I will at
once ensure you against being molested by
robbers of consequence ; but as for the small
fry (Lctdrones de ninguna considtracion), I cannot
be responsible ; tve respect the engagements
entered into by each other ; but there is no-
thing like honour among the petty thieves."
The proprietors of the diligences, however, were
satisfied with the assurance of protection against
the great lobbers, and the treaty was concluded ;
but not Ion J afterwards, one of the coaches was
stopped and rifled by the petty thieves : this
led to an arrangement which has ever since
proved effectual ; one of the chiefs accompanies
the coach on its journey, and overawes by his
name anJ reputation, the robbers of inferior
de,9Tee.

Nothing can exceed the beauty of the country
between the frontier, and Tolosa ; the road lies
through the most enchanting valleys, green and
fertile, beyond any that I had seen in the French

SPAIN IN 183D. O

Pyrenees ; and there is one feature in the
scenery, peculiar to this part of the Biscayan
provinces : the sides of the mountains are not
covered with forest trees, as in the Pyrenees, nor
with fir, as in the Alps, but with fruit trees : the
effect of this was striking, and beautiful ; chiefly
owing to the variety of colour in the different
fruits with which every tree was bowed to the
ground. As far as the eye could reach up the
mountain side, it rested upon a variegated carpet
of the many rich and nameless tints that lie
upon the finest and mellowest fruits. The abun-
dance of fruit was sufficiently shewn in the little
value that seemed to be attached to it ; in place
of flowers being thrown into the coach by chil-
dren, as is customary in many parts of France,
the early fruits of the season were tossed in at
the windows ; and the smallest coin was gladly
received as a sufficient compensation

It will probably create some surprise when I
say, that in no part of Europe is it possible to
travel with so much comfort, or with so great
rapidity, as by the Spanish Courier. The coach
is more commodious and roomy than an Eng-
lish private carriage ; it is well cushioned and
seated ; the windows are furnished with Vene-
tian blinds, by which the air may be admitted
and the sun excluded ; and with silk curtains.

6 SPAIN IN 183D.

by which the sun may be excluded even when
the glass windows are closed ; and two passen-
gers only are admitted inside : another is ad-
mitted into the cabriolet along with the guards.
The coach is drawn by four mules, which are
kept at a gallop the whole way, up hill and down
hill ; and the road from Bayonne to Madrid,
is generally as smooth as the very best roads
in England. I ascertained that the rate of tra-
vellinof exceeded twelve miles an hour. No
time is lost in useless stoppages ; the mules are
changed with as great expedition as in England ;
the traveller must be contented with few meals ;
and against the assaults of thirst, the guards are
provided with a well filled wine-skin, to which
they never apply, without first offering it to the
passengers, who are expected to accept the
civility.

AtTolosa, an inconsiderable town, we stopped
to sup : it was then nearly dark, so that I was
unable to see much of it; and, indeed, no
more time was allowed than sufficed for the
meal. This was the first meal I had taken in
Spain, and the first inn I had entered : of the
latter, I was scarcely entitled to form an opi-
nion from seeing only one room ; but the exag-
gerated accounts I had heard of the badness
and filthiness of the Spanish posadas, were

SPAIN IN 183D. 7

well calculated to put me in good humour with
the inn at Tolosa. After the variety and excel-
lence of the French adsirie, the supper table
seemed a little meagre, but every thing was
eatable ; the table was cleanly and neatly set
out, and the servants were active and attentive.
In most of the Spanish posadas in the north of
Spain, where Malaga is prized, a glass of it is
presented to the traveller after every meal.

When morning dawned, I found myself still
travelling through a mountainous country, but
less fertile than that which lies nearer the
frontier. In ascending the mountains that
bound the plain in which Vittoria is situated,
the usual rapidity of our travelling was inter-
rupted ; here, the mules were changed for
oxen, which are used throughout Spain, for
every kind of laborious work : we are accus-
tomed to associate with oxen, remarkable slow-
ness of movement ; and presuming upon this,
and upon the steepness of the ascent, I left the
carriage, in the intention of walking to the
summit; but contrary to my expectation, I found
myself unable to keep pace with the oxen, and
had great difficulty in regaining my place.

In approaching Vittoria, the country became
less interesting ; at the highest part of the
ascent, the oxen were again changed for mules.

8 SPAIN IN 183D.

and we descended into the plain at a rapid
pace, and soon after entered Vittoria, after pass-
ing a number of prisoners, chained together,
workiner on the roads ; and several Ions' trains
of mules.

I had been warned of the strictness of the
custom-house at Vittoria, especially in the
search for books ; but this, like much of the
information I had received before entering Spain,
proved an exaggeration. I never passed a cus-
tom house with so slight a scrutiny; not one
book was opened, and the whole examination
did not occupy five minutes.

I had been recommended to go to the " Pa-
rador,'' which has the reputation of being the
best hotel in Spain ; I found, however, that the
whole house was engaged for the reception of
the Infante Den Francis, and his suite, who
were expected the same morning from Bilbao ;
but accommodaticn was provided fcr me in the
house adjoining, where I was immediately pre-
sented with the usual Spanish refresco, a cup of
chocolate, and the most excellent bread in Eu-
rope. In this, I found that report had for once
spoken the truth : I have no where tasted bread
that will compare with that of Spain ; and this
remark applies to the whole country, and not
only to the cities and towns, but even to the

SPAIN IN 183U 9

villages : in the little village of St. Lorenzo, in
the midst of the Sierra Guadarrama, I found
bread equal to any that can be purchased in
Madrid or Seville.

Vittoria being the first Spanish town that I
had seen by daylight, I quickly finished my
refresco, that I might walk into the streets.
The first thing that attracted my attention, as
being characteristic of Spain, was, the great
number of priests, and members of different
religious orders ; and, at the same time, it was
impossible to avoid remarking the difference in
the appearance of the Spanish clergy, and the
clergy of most of the other Catholic countries,
especially of France. I saw no poor looking,
half starved priests, in thread-bare garments,
and looks of humility; all were well clothed,
and seemingly well fed ; they were not ashamed
to hold up their heads, and appeared, as the
French say, a leur a'lse.

The next thing that struck me as being re-
markable, was the Spanish cloak. It was about
noon, on a summer day, and the sun was out ; and
yet, every second or third person was muffled
up in his ample cloak ; these persons were,
however, chiefly of the inferior ranks ; and I
could not help suspecting, that the cloak covered
many an infirmity, and perhaj)s with some,

10 SPAIN IN 183U

stood in stead of an under garment : even the
school-boys had their cloaks thrown over their
shoulders ; and there appeared something very
ludicrous in the spectacle of boys at play, en-
cumbered with these useless appendages. I
remarked that brown was the universal colour of
the cloak among the lower ranks ; blue, or
black, among the upper classes.

In the appearance of the women, I noticed
nothing very remarkable. The Spanish national
dress is scarcely seen so far north — the lower
orders wore their hair plaited, and descending
behind, to the waist ; and but few of the ladies
were to be seen with the Spanish mantilla. I
am not entitled to say a single word respecting
the personal appearance of the Spanish women,
from a cursory glance at the streets of Vittoria;
upon this subject my expectations were highly
excited, — but I reserve my judgment upon so in-
teresting a matter, until I have seen the Capital.

In returning to the hotel, that I might see
the arrival of the Infant from my window, I
stopped for a moment in the bread market, — the
display was tempting and beautiful ; loaves of
all shapes and dimensions, and as white as un-
kneaded flour, were piled along the street,— but
I was obliged to hasten towards my apartment
by a flourish of trumpets, announcing the ap-

SPAIN IN 183n 11

proacli of the Infante, — and in a few minutes
more his advanced guard entered the street. I
can scarcely expect to be credited, when I say
that the Infant, Don Francis, the brother of the
King of Spain, arrived in a diligence, — yet such
is the fact. He, his consort, and his family,
occupied one diligence, and his suite occupied
another, — the first drawn by seven mules, —
the second, by six. The royal party was re-
ceived with respect by a considerable concourse
of people, and with the military honours usually
paid to persons in so exalted a station.

In the afternoon, I made a second tour of
the town ; — I walked into three or four of the
churches, but found no fair devotees before any
of the altars ; only two or three poor old women
were at their devotions. I was particularly amused
with a spectacle that presented itself in the
Plaza — a square, by the by, little inferior to the
Place Vendome in Paris : between two and three
hundred girls, from eight to thirteen or fourteen
years of age, were assembled in the middle of
the area, dancing with each other, to the music
of a fife and a drum, played by a musician whom
they had hired to contribute his aid to their
favourite pastime : the dances were slow, and
conducted with the utmost gravity ; every one
seemed to consider herself engaged in an im-

12 SPAIN IN 183n

portant affair, and among the two or three hun-
dred countenances, there was scarcely a smile
to be seen.

The neighbourhood of the hotel continued to
be the point of attraction to the inhabitants of
Vittoria all the evening ; an Infante is a rarity
in the provincial towns of Spain, and the citizens
testified their sense of the honour of a visit, by
assembling in the street opposite to the hotel,
and by hanging cloths and mattings of various
colours from the windows : a mark of respect,
which in Spain is always considered due to
royal, or religious processions. Deputations of
the principal inhabitants also arrived,— among
others, one of Capuchin friars; and to my great
annoyance, a band of indifferent music con-
tinued to entertain the Infante till after mid-
night.

There was nothing to detain me long in
Vittoria, and I hired a cabriolet and two mules,
to carry me to Bilbao, the capital of Biscay ; the
distance is eleven leagues of the country, or
something more than fifty English miles, and
for this I paid 200 reals ; and as I may probably
have frequent occasion to mention the expense
of travelling, and the value of different articles,
the following few explanations will be found of
use. Generally speaking, every thing in Spain

SPAIN ,IN 1S3U. 13

is calculated by reals, from the price of a ticket
to the bull-light, up to the State expenditure.
The value of a real is nearly 2}/L, — so that four
reals are equal to a French franc, or 10^. English ;
ail accounts in reals may therefore be easily
understood by dividing by four. But in small
values, the calculation is made in quartos, eight
and a ha^f of which are equal to a real, or 2ld.
In stating prices, I shall always make use of
these two denominations of money, so that the
reader may at once be able to substitute English
value.

From Eayonne, into Biscay, the nearest road
is not by Vittoria, but along the sea shore by
St. Sebastian; but the muleteers considering
the coast road unsafe, from the chances of rob-
bery, I was obliged to take the more circuitous
line by Vittoria, which I left about five in the
morning, after the usual refresco. Chocolate in
Spain, is very different from chocolate in Eng-
land : it is served in a very small cup, about the
size of the old India china coffee cup ; it is
about the consistence of thick cream, and is
highly spiced with cinnamon : the traveller in
Spain who dislikes chocolate, will often find
himself exposed to great inconvenience.

Leaving Vittoria, I entered upon the extensive
plain in which it is situated, and proceeded

14 SPAIN IN 183D.

along a good road, and at a pleasant pace,
towards the mountains. The plain of Vittoria
is entirely a corn country, and, at this early
season, harvest had already begun : the soil is
naturally bad and scanty; but the proverbial
industry of the Biscayans forces from it an un-
willing crop. From Vittoria to the entrance of
the mountains, is about three leagues ; I passed
through two or three small villages, and at
another, somewhat larger, just on the limits of
the plain, we stopped to water the mules : it
was Sunday morning ; there was a fine display
of vegetables and fruit in the market-place, and
several hundred villagers and peasants were
assembled, waiting the summons to go to mass.
I walked round the market-place, and observed
with pleasure, not unmixed with surprise, that
every individual was clean and well dressed. I
was not accosted by a single beggar.

Immediately upon leaving this village, I en-
tered the mountains — a delightful change from
a wide treeless plain. About a league from the
entrance, at the end of a winding valley, and just
before beginning a steep ascent, I noticed a
house where guards were to be hired ; the
muleteer asked me whether I chose to have any,
but being at that time rather an unbeliever in
the frequency of robbery, and liking the ex-

SPAIN IN 1831X 15

pression of the muleteer's countenance, I replied
in the negative, and we passed on.

The passage of the Biscayan mountains by
this road, affords some very magnificent pro-
spects ; the lower parts of the mountains are
covered with oak and Spanish chestnut, and the
summits rise to the height of at least 5000 feet,
in the form of numerous fantastic pinnacles of
a reddish colour ; the road is constructed upon
the most scientific principle, reaching the sum-
mit by a zigzag, and very easy ascent, and is as
broad and as smooth as the best roads in any
other country. The descent towards the north-
west is much greater than the ascent from Vit-
toria, proving the great elevation of the province
of Alava above that of Biscay Proper ; the pro-
vinces both of Alava, and of Gidpuscoa, are
called Biscayan provinces, but Biscay Proper is
confined to the country lying to the north of
the mountains, and bounded by the sea.

We stopped at Durango, the first town after
descending the mountains, to dine, and rest the
mules during the hottest part of the day. I
was equally pleased and surprised witli the
excellence of the posa da at Durango; the most
scrupulous cleanliness was visible in every
thing ; the dinner was unobjectionable ; and I
remarked a refinement to which the best French

■16 SPAIN IN 183D.

inns are strangers — the knives and forks were
changed with every plate. I learned from the
Soiorita who waited at table, that a sad misfor-
tune had that day befallen the village ; the
bishop to whose diocese it belonged, had jour-
neyed from Navarre to pay his respects to the
Infante at Bilbao ; on his return he had stopped
at Durango, as it was improper to travel on
Sunday, and after condescending to preach a
sermon in the village church, he had reproved
the levity of the people, and forbade that there
should be any dancing in the village that even-
ing ; but the girl added, that she v/culd go to
another village, half a league distant, to which
the injunction did not extend : this trifling trait,
added to another which I shall just now record,
first led me to suspect, that the influence of the
priesthood was on the decline, in Biscay at
least. The landlord, having discovered that I
was English, asked me how many priests we
might have in England in a town such as Du-
rango ? I replied, that we might have one or
two; *' O Dm,'" said he, " we have here more
than forty ! "

After dinner, we continued our journey to-
wards Bilbao. Leaving the town, I remarked on
passing the church, that the market was held
under the portico, and in the environs I noticed

SPAIN IN 1830. 17

a few specimens of Biscayan enjoyment ;
groups of men were lying, and sitting under
the trees, playing at cards ; and women were
seen here and there, seated on the grass, sing-
ing, and playing the tamborine. The road to
Bilbao continued excellent, and lay through a
fine fertile valley, bearing luxuriant crops of
Indian corn, diversified by meadows, and wood,
which also covered the sides of the neighbour-
ing hills. I saw no carriage on the road but
my own ; carts, and long trains of mules, occa-
sionally passed, and the only travellers I saw,
were two gentlemen mounted on mules, accom-
panied by four guards on foot, each provided
with a carabine.

All the way from Vittoria, the muleteer who
drove the carriage, sung a remarkably beautiful,
but somewhat monotonous air. I was greatly
pleased with the muleteer's song, and was
anxious that I should not forget it ; but I after-
wards found that I need not have been appre-
hensive of this : every where throughout Castile
I heard the same air, and in Madrid, nothing-
else was sung by the lower orders. I was
anxious to purchase it, and applied at one of
the music-shops, but they told me they dared
not sell it; it was forbidden by the government.

VOL. I . c

18 SPAIN IN 1830.

The air was old Arragonese, but it was revived
to new words, in a little comedy that somehow
slipped through the censorship a few months
before, and related how a certain friar knew
too well the road into a certain convent.

As the road approaches Bilbao, the moun-
tains that inclose the valley increase in height,
make a curve, and run directly into the Bay of
Biscay; and Bilbao is situated in their bosom :
it is this that gives to Bilbao its peculiar cha-
racter. Mountains generally diminish in height
as they approach the sea ; but here, this rule is
reversed, and Bilbao possesses the singularity
of being a sea-port, and of yet being all but
surrounded by lofty mountains. Owing to this,
nothing can be more striking and novel than
the view of the city where it is first seen from
the bridge that crosses the small river about a
mile before entering it. I was obliged to leave
the carriage at the entrance to the town, and
walk to the posada; for it is the rule that no
wheeled carriages of any kind are allowed to
drive through the streets of Bilbao. This regu-
lation has arisen from a praiseworthy desire to
preserve the purity of the water, which is con-
veyed in a stone tunnel under the streets ; all
goods are therefore carried through the town
either in panniers, on mules, or in sledges,

SPAIN IN 1830. 19

which are provided with a contrivance by
which they constantly moisten their path with
water.

Walking through the streets, to the posada de
St. Nicola, the only good inn in Bilbao, and
one of the very best in the Peninsula, I was
attracted by two curious exhibitions, one of
them very forcibly reminding me that I was in
Spain : two well-dressed peasants danced be-
fore me the whole length of a long street while
another walked behind, playing a sort of trum-
pet; and in the open space before the principal
fountain, some boys were amusing themselves
with the representation of a bull-fight ; one boy
was mounted on another's back, the undermost
representing the horse of the picador, the other
was armed with a long pole, while a third on
foot, his head covered with a basket in which
he had fixed two horns, imitated the motions
and bellowing of the bull ; several others with
handkerchiefs, represented the torredores, throw-
ing them in the bull's face. The bull-fights at
Bilbao had newly concluded ; the Infante had
been treated with eight exhibitions, in which
thirty-two bulls were killed. This is the high-
est mark of respect that Spanish authorities can
shew to a visitor, and the greater the number

( 2

20 SPAIN IN 1830.

of bulls that are sacrificed, the greater of course
is the compliment.

I remained in Bilbao a fortnight, which I
found amply sufficient to see all that merited
attention, and to inform myself respecting some
of the peculiarities of the province of Biscay.
I have already spoken of the situation of Bilbao,
as striking and beautiful, but the town itself is
not remarkable for its beauty or cleanliness ;
the smells are most offensive; and lying as it
does in so deep a basin among the mountains,
which even shut it out from the sea, I can
scarcely think Bilbao a healthy city. But by
the side of the river, there is a fine promenade
all the way to the port, ^yhich lies about two
miles from the city, and here the inhabitants
may catch some of the sea breeze which gene-
rally comes up with the tide ; a part of this
promenade is allotted to the fruit and vegetable
market, which I strolled through, the morning
after my arrival ; there was a most abundant
display of every sort of which the season ad-
mitted, including an extraordinary quantity of
tomata, — this is known in the south of .France
by the name of pomme d'amour, and is an impor-
tant ingredient in Spanish cookery. The bread
market is held along with the fruit market, and

SPAIN IN 1830. 21

I found the bread of Bilbao quite equal to that
of the other parts of Spain.

When I looked from my window in the hotel,
I found that I was well situated for observing
the inhabitants of all classes : opposite, stood
the church of St. Nicholas ; at one side was a
public fountain, and on the other a brass basin —
reminding me of Membrino's helmet — indicated
a barber's shop. At all hours therefore I might
see some going to mass, and others filling their
pitchers at the fountain. The Biscayan de-
serves the character of strength, that has been
given to him; and the contrast between the Bis-
cayan, and the Andalusian peasant, who inhabit
the two extremes of Spain, is remarkable : the
latter, dark, tall, upright, slim, with something
of elegance in his appearance ; and the look of
pride generally visible in his air and counte-
nance, seeming to have some reference to his
personal attractions : the Biscayan, broad, ath-
letic, lounging, with something of peculiar
roughness in his look and manner; and his
expression of blunt independence, having no
reference to himself individually, but arising
from the knowledge that he is a Biscayan, and
as such, the hereditary possessor of peculiar
and exclusive rights. Such seemed to me the
Biscayan peasant, whether he filled his pitcher

22 SPAIN IN 1830.

at the fountain, or entered St. Nicholas to
mass. As for the women, I do not feel myself
obliged to use the same reserve in speaking of
them as of the women of Vittoria : because the
inhabitants of Biscay being a distinct race, my
opinion of them does not compromise the cha-
racter and claims of Spanish women generally.
I saw little beauty in Bilbao, and less elegance ;
and in the manner of the women I remarked
the same bluntness as that which characterizes
the men.

But along with Biscayan bluntness, there is
much good heartedness and honesty, and a great
deal of intelligence ; and even the pride of a
Biscayan, has given rise to much of the industry
and enterprise which in the province of Biscay
are so conspicuous in the cultivation of the soil,
in the construction of useful works, and in
the establishment of praiseworthy institutions.
Many of the inhabitants of Biscay in the upper
classes have made voyages into other countries,
and have returned with diminished prejudices,
and increased liberality of sentiment ; and the
consequence of this has been, that among the
educated, and better classes of society, there is
little narrowness in political sentiment, and little
bigotry in religion. I heard several of the most
respectable inhabitants of Bilbao express openly

SPAIN IN IS30. 23

much dissatisfaction at the political debasement
of Spain, and breathe ardent wishes for the dif-
fusion of intellectual and religious light; but
they added, what my own knowledge has since
fully confirmed, that I should not find in any
other part of Spain, the same enlightened views
as I had found in Biscay. Among the lower
orders in Bilbao, and in Biscay generally, there
is still much bigotry both in politics and reli-
gion, but more especially in the latter ; during
the existence of the constitution, the prejudices
of the lower ranks made it necessary to affix in
large letters over the doors of all the churches,
and attested by the existing authorities, these
important words, — " The Roman Catholic is
the only true religion."

In Biscay there are not many poor, nor
many rich. Formerly, Bilbao contained many
wealthy citizens ; but the export trade in wool
was then flourishing. At that time the clear-
ances were more than double their present num-
ber; but ever since the preference of Saxon wool
has begun to be shewn in the foreign markets,
the trade of Bilbao has declined, and now, not
more than between thirty and forty British ves-
sels visit Bilbao in the course of a year. Some
few houses in Bilbao have still considerable
returns from the fish trade, and one or two, from

24 SPAIN IN 1830.

the iron export trade ; but this has also fallen
off, since the demand for Swedish iron has in-
creased. Biscayan iron would still command a
preference in the foreign markets, from its supe-
rior qualities for finer purposes, if it could enter
them at the same price as Swedish iron ; but this
is impossible, both on account of the expense
of fuel for furnaces, and the want of inland
navigation. Timber is not scarce in the pro-
vince of Biscay ; but there is an old Biscayan
law which tends to keep up its price, enacting
that for every tree cut down, six must be planted
in its stead ; this is often felt to be an inconveni-
ence, and produces scarcity in the midst of plenty.
I was informed that two or three houses in Bilbao
realize from 2 to 3000/. a-year ; but I believe I
may assert that no one spends 300/. It is diffi-
cult to spend money in Bilbao : in no part of
Spain, least of all in Biscay, is it the custom to
live extravagantly or luxuriously. The table of
a Biscayan is remarkable for its simplicity and
sameness : of whatever rank he may be, he
takes his cup of chocolate and bread, followed
by a glass of sugar and water, about eight o'clock ;
he dines about one, and six days out of seven,
his dinner consists of broth, and dipudiero, which
is boiled beef, with a small bit of pork, sur-
rounded either by cabbage, or Spanish peas.

SPAIN IN 1830. 25

(garbanzos), and varied occasionally with a sau-
sage ; a cup of chocolate again in the afternoon,
and for supper, boiled lettuce prepared with
vinegar, oil and pepper, finish the repasts of the
day. The menage at home, therefore, costs but
a trifling sum ; and neither does the Biscayan
spend any thing upon entertaining his friends ;
not that he is unsocial; he is social according to
the custom of his country. During the winter,
a circle of six, eight, or ten families form them-
selves into a society, and agree to visit each
other ; each chooses a week, and during each
week the circle assembles every evening at the
same house; they take chocolate before going
out, and sup when they return ; the entertain-
ment is entirely intellectual ; music, cards, and
dancing fill up the evening. Upon one occasion
only, does the circle eat together : all the money
lost and won at cards, is made a purse, and is
confided to one of the party; and during the
summer it is converted into a dinner in the
country, of which all the members of the circle
partake.

There are no public amusements in Bilbao,
excepting occasional bull fights. Two attempts
to establish a theatre have failed ; a handsome
stone theatre erected some years ago, was burnt
down not long after it was erected ; and there

26 SPAIN IN 1830.

was strong reason to believe, that the conflagra-
tion was wilful, and that the friars were at the
bottom of it : another theatre constructed of
wood, was subsequently opened ; but after a
very short time it was pulled down by order of
the public authorities ; and this was also gene-
rally believed to have been owing to the inter-
ference of the friars.

The town of Bilbao is extremely rich. On
the occasion of the king's visit a (ew years ago,
the corporation expended no less than two
million of reals (20,000/.) in feasts, decorations,
bull-fights, &c., and to cover these expenses, it
was not necessary to lay on any additional im-
positions. These funds arise from dues upon the
entry of all the necessaries of life, whether by
land or by sea : beef is entirely a town monopoly ;
the meat is farmed to butchers at certain prices,
and retailed by them, and by this monopoly the
Corporation realizes 1500 reals per day. The
duties upon wine, soap, and oil, are also con-
siderable, and the dues of port entry upon all
articles of subsistence are 2id. per cent. But
notwithstanding these dues, living is not ex-
pensive. The following are the prices of some
articles: beef is 10 quartos, or about 3^.;
mutton, 3ir/., but it is generally of an indifferent
quality ; a lamb costs from 20^/. to 2*. ; veal is

SPAIN IN 1830. 27

about 4^/. per lb., all of 17 oz. Bread varies in
price, according to the quality : the best is l^d.
per lb., but the coarsest kinds, and the bread of
Indian corn, is not sold by weight. Many kinds
of game are both plentiful and cheap : wood-
cocks are frequently to be had at lOd. or Is.
per pair. Groceries are also reasonable, and it
is a curious fact, that loaf sugar, coming from
England, is cheaper than raw sugar, direct from
the Havannah : good wine costs a little less than
3^/. per bottle. The Spanish country wines
taste unpleasantly to a stranger, for they have
almost all contracted, less or more, a peculiar
flavour from the skins in which they are carried.
There are two reasons why the Spanish wines
are carried in skins: in the wine countries there
is little wood to make casks ; but the principal
reason is, that the cross-roads are not suited for
carriages, and that mules can more conveniently
carry skins than casks. Throughout Biscay,
the wages of labour are from 10^/. to ly. ; and
workmen, such as carpenters, masons. Sec. re-
ceive from 20d. to 2s. per day.

Among the first days of my residence in
Bilbao, I visited the new cemetery, the model
of which is worthy of being adopted in other
places. This Campo Scoito has been inclosed in
consequence of a quarrel between the Franciscan

28 SPAIN IN 1830.

Convent and the Chapter of Bilbao, respecting
the dues of burial, in a place to which both
claimed right ; and the Corporation completed
the new cemetery, at an expense of not less
than 30,000/. The gateway is beautiful and
chaste, with this appropriate inscription over it:

" Cada Paso, que vais dando
Por la senda de la vida
Mas y mas os va acercando
Mortales, a la partida,
Que en vano estais evitando."

The design of the Campo Santo is this : a square
area of about six acres is surrounded by a covered
arcade, supported by doric columns ; the back of
the arcade is an immense wall of brickwork, in
which there are four rows of spaces for coffins,
the opening one yard square, and six feet and a
half long; into this, the coffin is deposited; the
spaces which are not occupied are slightly closed
up; and a ring in the centre, shews that they are
vacant. When a coffin is deposited, the opening
is built up with brick and lime, and a stone or
marble slab, fitted into it, records the name of
the buried. The cemetery is fitted to receive
3000 dead — a great number for so small a space ;
and the area beyond the arcade, is tastefully
laid out as a garden and shrubbery. Besides
the inscription I have noted down, there are

SPAIN IN 1830.

29

several others that struck me as being beautiful
and well chosen. The following particularly,
over the inner-gate, is striking: —

" Deten sus pasos inciertos
O Caminente ! repara,
En que esta Puerta separa
A Los vivos de los muertos."

Which may be freely translated : — " Stop,
thoughtless wanderer ! and reflect, — this gate
separates the dead from the living."

In returning from the cemetery to the town,
I made a long circuit, visiting in my way the
Iglesia de Bigofia, a church which takes its name
from a miraculous image of our Lady of Bigoiia,
deposited in it, and looked upon with extra-
ordinary veneration by the lower orders in
Bilbao. It happened to be a feast day, and a
great number of persons were collected in the
church, because upon all such days, the curtain
that screens the miraculous image is withdrawn
for a few moments — an opportunity not to be
disregarded by any good Biscayan who desires
to ensure the kind offices of the sainted Lady of
Bigoiia. Before the service began, the officiating
priest shewed me the sacristy, and a head of
John the Baptist in wood; a very clever per-
formance, by a native artist ; and I afterwards

30 SPAIN IN 18.30.

waited in the church long enough to see the
curtain withdrawn, and the prostrations of three
or four hundred devotees. There is a small
foundation left to this church, for a curious pur-
pose. The curate must go to the gate of the
church at the commencement of every thunder
storm, — say a certain prayer, — and sprinkle the
sky with holy water. It appears, however, that
the virtue of the water, as well as the water itself,
has been sometimes dissipated before reaching
the clouds ; for the church tower has been twice
struck by lightning.

In the course of my walk, I learned a curious
fact, illustrating strongly the mixture of pride
and generosity which is often found in the
Spanish character. The Corporation being de-
sirous of conducting an aqueduct and a road to
Bilbao from a mountain about a league distant,
applied to the proprietor (a grandee of Spain)
to purchase the land through which these were
to be carried. He refused to sell it; but said,
that if the Corporation would petition him for a
grant of the land, he would make them a pre-
sent of it : they however wanted no favour, and
would not condescend to this ; but supposing
that the proprietor would be prevailed upon to
sell, they commenced, and at length nearly
finished the work. The grandee, offended at

SPAIN IN 1830. 31

this insolence, applied to the king for an order
to demolish the work, and obtained it ; but just
in time to prevent this, the Corporation peti-
tioned the grandee, and the order was not only-
rescinded, but the grant of the land was com-
pleted. The water conveyed in this aqueduct
forms a reservoir at the entrance of the town
for a useful and rather a novel purpose : by
opening a sluice, seven of the lov^'est streets in
the town are inundated ; this is done every week
during the summer heats, and is doubtless very
useful in carrying away impurities. I walked
through one of the lowest of the streets an hour
before, and an hour after the purification ; and
the difference in smell, freshness, and coolness,
was most striking.

Walking either in the streets, or in the neigh-
bourhood of Bilbao, the convents and monas-
teries are very conspicuous : they are almost all
immense piles of building, of little architectural
beauty, and are at once distinguished by the
strong gratings that cover their windows. In
the town there are four monasteries — the Fran-
ciscans, the Capuchins, the Augustins, and tlie
Carmelites : the two former of these subsist on
charity, which is liberally bestowed, and they
in their turn give charity to others. Every
day, a great number of poor are fed after the

32 SPAIN IN 1830.

Franciscan friars have dined, and as they are a
hundred and ten in number, the refuse of their
dinner must be considerable. I visited the
Franciscan convent accompanied by an English
lady, and although I found the utmost polite-
ness from the Superior, he was deaf to all my
entreaties to permit the lady to enter the sa-
cristy, to see a picture said to be by Raphael.
This convent was partly destroyed by the
French, and it was under its gateway that
several of those military executions took place,
which so disgraced the conduct of the French
during their occupation of the province of Bis-
cay. In the Carmelite convent, there are only
five friars, who want for nothing that money
can purchase ; they are extremely rich, and
possess a charming property not far from Bil-
bao, called ''el Desierto ;" but which might
with greater propriety be called "el Faradaiso.'"
Besides these monasteries within the town,
there are two at a short distance from it — the
Burcena convent of Mercenarios, and the Friars
of San Mames, both of the Franciscan order.

The female convents are also numerous ; these
are, La Conception, a Franciscan order, in
which there are 14 nuns; Santa Clara, also
Franciscan, in which there are 10 nuns; El
Convento de la Encarnacion, where there are 27

SPAIN IN 1830.

33

nuns ; el Convento de la Cruz, containing 12
nuns ; Santa Monica, an Augustinian order,
with 12 nuns; La Esperanza, containing 12,
and La Merced, containing 10. There are
altogether about 350 friars and nuns in Bilbao,
and about 120 priests. In the province of Bis-
cay, females profess at a very early age ; their
noviciate generally commences about fifteen,
and at the expiration of a year they take the veil.
A nun must carry into the convent about 30,000
reals (300/.) ; and to La Merced and Santa Mo-
nica, considerably more. I ascertained, from a
source of the most authentic kind, that three-
fourths of the nuns who take the veil at this
early age, die of a decline within four years. The
climate, which in Biscay is so prolific in con-
sumption, added to the \o\v and damp situation
of some of the convents, may perhaps be ad-
mitted to have some influence upon this pre-
mature decay ; but 1 should incline to attribute
a greater influence to causes more immediately
referable to the unhappy and unnatural condi-
tion of those who are shut out from the common
privileges, hopes, and enjoyments of their kind.
I visited the convent of Santa Monica in
company with an old gentleman, an inhabitant
of Bilbao, who had known several of the in-
mates from childhood. We were only per-

VOL. 1. D

34 SPAIN IN 1830.

mitted to converse through a double grating,
which separated the small antechamber where
we stood, from the convent burying-ground,
where three of the nuns were ; two of them
seemed to be above thirty, the other was under
twenty ; my companion, a very jocose old man,
jested, and amused them; and they in their turn
prated, and laughed immoderately, and appeared
to be in excellent spirits ; but the sight of an old
acquaintance, and the novelty of a visit from an
English lady, had probably produced a tempo-
rary excitement : while, in the midst of their
mirth, they were suddenly sent for by the ab-
bess, who probably thought it wise to turn their
thoughts into another channel. It is a pity, I
think, that those who have separated themselves
from the world, should afterwards be permitted
to hold any communication with it; feelings
may be stifled, and hopes buried, and time and
habit may lead to forgetfulness, and even un-
consciousness, of a busier, and it may be, a
brighter scene ; but recollections are easily
awakened, and it is cruel to revive that which
must again be buried.

Walking one evening to see the new hospital,
which lies on the outskirts of the toMai, I was
surprised at the great number of mules which
were entering and leaving Bilbao ; the former

SPAIN IN 1S;5(). 35

laden with wine, soap and oil ; the latter with
dried cod, which forms the staple of the Bilbao
trade, and is an article of diet very extensively
used throughout the greater part of Spain.
There is a curious regulation respecting the
trade of Bilbao with the interior, — no muleteer
from Castile can carry away a load from any
part of Biscay, unless he has brought a load
with him ; and this load must consist of some-
thing that may be eaten, drank, or burnt : this
regulation ensures at all times to the Biscayan
market an abundant supply, at a reasonable
rate, of all the articles that come from the
interior; nor is the regulation thought a hard
one by the muleteer ; because, although owing
to the abundant supply, he is frequently a loser
by it, he knows that it would be insecure to
carry money so far to the market : it is in fact
a remnant of the original commerce of all na-
tions — barter.

I found the hospital well worthy of a visit ;
it is not yet completed, but is calculated to ac-
commodate 2o0 patients. When I visited it,
there were only 50 patients, whose diseases
were consumption and old age. One part of
the establishment I greatly approve of; a ward
of the building is appropriated for the reception
of strangers, or persons of a superior rank in

D 2

36 SPAIN IN 1830.

life, who may be desirous of good advice at a
moderate expense, and without occasioning
trouble to friends or relations : these pay half a
dollar per day, and have all the best hospital
attendance united with the comforts of a pri-
vate house. I can scarcely conceive a more
welcome piece of intelligence to an unfortunate
stranger, seized with a severe malady in a
foreign place, than the existence of an institu-
tion like this.

In walking through the wards, I noticed books
in the hands of several of the patients ; these
were chiefly forms of prayer ; but seeing one
sick man laughing heartily over his studies, I
had the curiosity to approach his bed near
enough to ascertain that he was engaged with
a comedy of Lopez ck Vega.

Passing along the streets, I frequently met
the boys belonging to a charity school, the only
one in Bilbao ; they were, with few exceptions,
very raggedly dressed, and most of them pro-
vided with little bells, with which they produced
not an inharmonious music : the cause of their
ragged dress is easily explained by the want of
funds, which arise solely from the trifling im-
position of four reals per ton upon every foreign
vessel entering the port. The only explanation
I was able to get of the ringing of bells is, that

SPAIN IN 1830. 37

this custom is pleasing to the virgin. There is
another sort of music peculiar to Biscay, of the
most discordant kind, and which I cannot re-
collect even now, without unpleasant sensations.
This music is produced by the wheels of the
carts drawn by oxen : these are solid, without
spokes, and a strong wooden screw is made to
press upon the axle of the wheel ; the con-
sequence of this, is a sound so horribly grating,
that the faintest conception of it cannot be con-
veyed by words. The peasant supposes, that
without this noise, the oxen would not go
willingly; and if they be once accustomed to
it, this may perhaps be true. No carriage being
allowed to pass along the streets of Bilbao,
they are of course free from this intolerable
nuisance : in the town of Orcluna, also, it is not
permitted ; but on all the roads of the Basque
provinces, and especially in the streets of Vit-
toria, this noise is so unintermitting, that no-
thing could tempt me to reside in that town.

Every evening while I remained in Bilbao, I
spent half an hour in the Swiss Coffee-house —
the only one in the town ; and one evening, I
was much amused by a very curious scene I wit-
nessed there. Four gentlemen were seated at a
card-table when I entered the coffee-house, and
at first I paid no particular attention to them ;

38 SPAIN IN 1830.

but accidentally resting my eye upon them while
sipping my coffee, I was surprised to see one of
the players shut one eye, and at the same time
thrust his tongue out of his mouth ; from him,
my eyes wandered to another, who at the same
moment squinted with both eyes, and thrust
forward his under-lip : I now saw that it was a
constant succession of face-making, while all
the while the game went on. It is impossible
to describe the strange, ludicrous, and hideous
faces of the players ; I was at first dumb with
astonishment, and then convulsed with laughter,
and all the while dying with curiosity to know
the reason of so grotesque an exhibition. It
was a Biscayan game, called mus; — answering
to each card there is a particular contortion of
the face, which interprets its value ; and the
point of the game consists in the dexterity with
which partners are able to convey to each other
by grimaces, the state of each other's hand.
This is a favourite game in Biscay, but it is said
to require a lifetime to become expert in it : I
should think it requires also the natural gift of
grimace.

There are many charming walks around
Bilbao, up the river, and down the river, and
among the neighbouring mountains ; and in
whatever direction one turns, proofs are at

SPAIN IN 1830. 39

hand, of the enterprising spirit, and great in-
dustry of the inhabitants in the improvement of
land. Within the last ten years, much waste
land has been brought under cultivation : of this
waste land, there are two kinds ; one, which
is the property of the jurisdiction, and which is
parcelled out to individuals, the price being
fixed by arbitration : the other, which is the
property of individuals who possess entailed
estates, and cannot dispose of waste land. Some
enterprising person oifers to cultivate a portion
of this land, under the agreement that the pro-
duce for a certain period, ten, or twelve years
perhaps, is to be the property of the cultivator,
and that at the expiration of that term, the cul-
tivator is to rent the land of the proprietor. By
these two modes, a great part of the cultivable
land of Biscay has been brought under cultiva-
tion ; and the vine is now extensively grown
upon all the surrounding slopes.

The following few particulars respecting the
climate, diseases, &c. of Biscay, I obtained from
a report drawn up by a few of the principal
medical men of the province, at the request of
the Royal College of Physicians in London.
The medium heat of the thermometer in sum-
mer is from 19 to 21 of Reaumur, and in winter
from 5 to 7. In summer, the thermometer

40 SPAIN IN 1830.

scarcely ever rises above 26, and in winter,
rarely falls below : changes in the tempera-
ture are sudden and extraordinary ; the mercury
having been known to rise and fall from 3" to
4" within a few minutes. The most prevalent
winds are S. and N. W. ; the S. the most con-
stant in autumn, the N. W. in spring. The
finest months are August, September, October,
and sometimes November ; the spring months
are the most unsettled, rains being then almost
as frequent as in winter. The summer months
are the most salubrious ; autumn less so ; and
winter and spring may be said to be unhealthy.
The diseases most common in Biscay are cuta-
neous diseases ; and catarrhs, especially pul-
monary, which often terminate in pulmon.
phthisis. Inflammations of the pleura, lungs,
and bowels, — and rheumatism, are the most
numerous after the class of pulmonary diseases;
and of all these, the atmospheric changes may
be considered the predisposing cause. The
province of Biscay abounds in medicinal plants ;
but excepting a few simples used by the inha-
bitants, these do not enter into the Spanish
pharmacopeia. Amongst these medicinal plants,
are laurus nobilis, arbutus unedo, rabnus car-
tarticus, erica cantabrica, smilax aspera, hu-
mulus lupulus, tormentila erecta, poligala amara,

SPAIN IN 1830. 4 1

digitalis purpurea, daphne laureola, gentiana
luthea, anethenus nobilis. The number of
deaths in Bilbao, calculated from the parochial
register by an average of five years, amounts to
one in forty-six yearly.

The Basque provinces enjoy many separate
privileges, of which they are extremely jealous ;
but Biscay Proper enjoys more privileges than
either of the other Basque provinces. I shall
mention a few of the most remarkable. Biscay
acknowledges no king; the king of Spain is
not king, but lord of Biscay. This is but a
nominal privilege : but the next is more impor-
tant. The conscription does not extend to Bis-
cay ; in case of invasion only, Biscay is bound
to furnish troops, but as soon as the demand
upon their services is past, they are entitled to
disband themselves. The next is a highly
honourable privilege, whatever may be thought
of its solid advantage : a Biscayan cannot be
hanged, but must be strangled, like a Spanish
noble ; nor can stripes be inflicted as a punish-
ment. The only difl'erence between hanging
and strangling consists in this, that the punish-
ment of strangulation is inflicted while the cri-
minal is seated. The next Biscayan privilege
is a privilege annexed to his religion ; it is, that
no foreigner is entitled to establish himself in

42 SPAIN IN 1830.

any trade, unless he profess the Roman Catholic
religion. The code of laws by which Biscay
is governed, is different not only from those of
Spain, but also from those of the other Basque
provinces : this is no doubt a right, but whether
it be a right conveying any advantage is more
questionable. I understood that justice in Bis-
cay was badly administered, and that a code of
separate laws in no respect increased the chances
of the poor in a contest with the rich. Ques-
tions arising in Biscay, although decided by the
laws of Biscay, are not decided within the pro-
vince, but are subject to numerous appeals.
They originate with the Court of the Corregidor;
from which the first appeal is to the Chancery
of Valladolid ; from this to the Council of Cas-
tile ; then to the tribunal de mil ducados, so called
because that sum must be deposited before the
appeal can be received ; and lastly to the king,
under the name of " appelar de notoria injusticia"
It is evident, that with the power of thus pro-
longing the term of litigation, and the necessity
of a large deposit, the richest litigator must
enter upon his lawsuit with very reasonable
hopes of success.

Biscay is not obliged to pay any government
impositions : the king has no certain revenue
from Biscay, but when money is wanted, he

SPAIN IN 1830. 43

must ask it, and a part of what is demanded is
generally given ; but if any demand be made
inconsistent with the laws or privileges of Bis-
cay, a thing that has sometimes happened,
Biscay returns this contradictory answer; " Se
obedese, y nose cunipk."

The head of the province, is the Corregidor,
who is named by the king of Spain ; but an appeal
from the corregidor to the deputies, seems to
render the precedence of the corregidor merely
nominal. The deputies are elected thus : the
general election for the nomination of deputies,
syndics, and regidores, takes place every three
years. Each village within the province sends
one or two electors, according to its size ; the
names of the villages are written upon separate
pieces of paper, and all are put into a wheel,
and the first four that turn up, have the right of
election, or of naming the public functionaries
of the province.

The privileges, the civil laws, and the mari-
time laws of Biscay, are contained in three
separate volumes ; the latter of these form the
basis of the maritime laws of Spanish South
America.

CHAPTER II.

JOURNEY FROM BISCAY TO MADRID.

Waggon travelling; Scenery; Bills of Fare, and Expenses; second
Visit to Vittoria ; Departure for Madrid ; the Ebro ; Privileges
of the Military; Old Castile; Husbandry; Burgos; Beggars;
Posadas ; Traits of Misery in a Castilian Village ; New Castile ;
Quixotic Adventure; the Somo-sierra and Approach to the
Capital ; Sketches of the Environs, and Arrival in Madrid ;
Information for Travellers.

Upon those roads in Spain where there are no
diligences, the traveller may generally find an
ordinario, or galera ; two kinds of waggons, the
former without, the latter commonly, but not
alv/ays, with springs, in either of which he may
be accommodated with a place, — a seat I can
scarcely call it, — at a price, moderate in compa-
rison with the enormous expense of hiring a
private conveyance. In one of these ordinarios,
I left Bilbao for Vittoria, by a road different
from that by which I had already travelled.
Nothing can be more luxurious than travelling
by a waggon on springs during hot weather :

SPAIN IN 1830. 45

neither diligence nor private carriage can be
compared with it : it is open before and behind,
so that there is a fine current of air; it is covered
above, so that the sun is excluded, and the tra-
veller may lie all his length upon clean straw.
As for the rate of travelling, it is not indeed
very rapid ; but fifty miles a day is a sufficient
distance for one who is desirous of seeing the
country he passes through : waggons with
springs, however, are much more rarely to be
met with, than those without them ; and the
jolting, of course, neutralizes in part the other
advantages I have named.

Leaving Bilbao, the road winds through a
narrow valley among hills covered to the sum-
mit with oak, and rising to the height of
between 2000 and 3000 feet ; the valley, vary-
ing in breadth from one to two miles, is every
where cultivated ; the crops, even at this early
period, were already partly reaped; and in many
places the country people were busy in the
fields. Every where around, there was much
picturesque beauty and many rural pictures :
a little rivulet flowed in capricious turnings
through the valley ; and as Biscayan industry
always carries a road straight forward, what-
ever obstacles are encountered, the stream was
spanned every few hundred yards by a stone

46 SPAIN IN 1830.

bridge, built in the form of an aqueduct, and
generally grown over with ivy : fine old Spanish
chestnut trees were scattered over the meadows
that bordered the stream, and here and there
groups of cattle stood, or lay under them. This
kind of scenery continued the same for about
six leagues, when we stopped at a small town to
dine, and refresh the mules. At this village we
were destined to fare ill. We were ushered into
a room where a priest, and two other persons,
had finished what seemed by its wrecks to have
been an excellent repast : and the table was
immediately cleared to make way for our enter-
tainment : silver spoons and forks, handsome
wine decanters, of crystal gilt, and clean nap-
kins, seemed to announce something respect-
able ; but the dinner, when it appeared, consisted
of a little cold fish, and the bones — literally the
bones, of the chickens which the priest and his
friends had picked ! I made my way into the
kitchen, and discovering a fine fat hen roasting,
and almost ready for the table, I began to
repent my too hasty condemnation of the enter-
tainment ; but upon telling the master that the
fowl was sufficiently roasted, I was informed
that it was not for me, but for the muleteer,
who in Spain always fares better than those
whom he conducts. I was forced, therefore, to

SPAIN IN 1830. 47

return to the cold fish and chicken bones, for
which the landlord had the effrontery to charge
twelve reals. I paid him, however, only one
half of his demand, and got into the waggon,
followed only by a few Biscayan growls.

After leaving this town, we began to ascend
the mountains which separate Biscay Proper
from the province of Alava. In passing these
mountains, a curious illusion is produced by the
extreme whiteness of the stone which composes
the peaks of some of the Biscayan range. It is
scarcely possible to persuade oneself that these
are not snow peaks ; nothing indeed but a pre-
vious knowledge of the elevation of this range,
and of the consequent impossibility of snow
lying upon it, could dismiss the illusion. A
little before dusk we alighted at the parador at
Vittoria, where, as the Infante was no longer
an inmate, I found comfortable accommoda-
tion. At this hotel, and at all the posadas
between Bayonne and Madrid, in connexion
with the establishment of the royal diligences,
there is a tariff of prices, which I shall here
transcribe, for the information of those who may
wish to know something of the expenses of tra-
velling in this part of Spain.

Desayuno, which means a slight morning's
repast, and which may consist either of a cup

48 SPAIN IN 1830.

of chocolate, tea, or coffee, with bread ; or of
two eggs, with bread and wine, is charged two
reals, or five pence.

Almuerzo (Dejeune a la fourchette), eight reals.

Comida (Dinner), twelve rxals, or 2s. 6d. This
being the most important meal, the tariff speci-
fies the articles of v/hich it must consist, though,
for some of these, equivalents are allowed. The
following is the bill of fare : — Soup ; an olla, or
puchero, which is composed of fowl, bacon, beef,
sausage, Spanish peas, and pot-herbs; a fritter,
or ham and eggs ; two dishes of dressed meat ;
a pudding ; pepper in the pod, dressed with a
sauce ; small white beans (haricots) ; a roast ;
a salad ; a dessert of three dishes ; a glass of
brandy ; and bread and wine at discretion.
Melon is not included in the dessert of three
dishes ; this fruit is not eaten in the north of
Spain at the dessert, but is introduced after
soup. The dinner, it must be admitted, is suf-
ficiently abundant; but, considering the low
price of provisions, it is not cheap. The only
one of these dishes which a stranger can eat, is
the most truly Spanish among them, — the
pudiero, — because it is the only one in which
there is neither oil nor garlic. The tariff also
provides for the traveller's comfort in bed ; this
is charged at four reals {\0d.)^ and the follow-

SPAIN IN 1S;30. 49

ing articles are ordered to be provided : a straw
mattress ; another of wool ; two clean sheets ;
two pillows, and clean pillow-cases; a quilt;
and, in winter, a blanket. All that the tariff
enjoins, is rigidly complied with ; and, where-
ever there is a tariff, the traveller may always
depend upon a sufficient meal, a clean bed, and
a just charge.

Vittoria may at present be considered a
decayed town. Ever since the war of independ-
ence, it has been a falling place ; and this may
be easily accounted for, from the insecurity of
possessions in a town lying so near the French
frontier. At the time when Napoleon threat-
ened to annex to France all that part of Spain
which lies to the north of the Ebro, many left
Vittoria; and several persons exchanged their
estates in that neighbourhood, for possessions
farther in the interior. At present, there are
numerous houses untenanted, and not a few in
a state of ruin ; and the manufactures of which
Vittoria formerly could boast, now scarcely
exist, — no one being disposed to sink capital in
establishing that which the first commotion
upon the frontier might be the means of de-
stroying.

I experienced some difficulties at Vittoria

VOL. I. E

50 SPAIN IN 1830.

with my passport. I had intended to have
entered Spain by Perpignan,but having changed
my intention, I was in possession of only a
French provisional passport, backed by the
Spanish Consul at Bayonne. I was at first
told, that I could not be allowed to proceed ;
but, upon producing a letter of recommendation,
from Lord Aberdeen to Mr. Addington, the
British Minister at Madrid, the difficulties were
overcome, and 1 was permitted to proceed.

I was detained two days in Vittoria, waiting
a vacant place in the Madrid diligence, which
I stepped into at three o'clock on the morning
of the third day ; and, after a few hours' drive
through a well -cultivated corn country, we
reached Miranda, and, crossing the Ebro,
entered old Castile. The Ebro is here a very
insignificant stream, little resembling the majes-
tic river which I afterwards crossed in Cata-
lunia ; but the interest with which a river is
regarded, is of a borrowed kind; even where
the traveller is able to step over it, it is invested
with a dignity commensurate with its future
destinies. But the Ebro, even if it were pos-
sible to deprive it of that charm which is
common to every great river when beheld near
its source, has claims peculiarly its own ; it is
full of historic recollections — it gave its name

SPAIN IN 1830. 51

to the whole of ancient Spain — and memory,
set sail upon its waters, floats towards the
empires of Carthage and of Rome. And the
Ebro possesses still another source of interest
to all who visit Spain ; for it is upon its banks
that we are first reminded of the exploits of the
valorous Knight of La Mancha, and of the
undying genius of Cervantes, — one of whose
happiest inventions is the fancy of his hero,
that his boat, floating down the Ebro, has
crossed the equinoctial ; and the proof of this,
which he demands of Sancho.

I had been told that on entering old Castile
we should be subjected to a rigorous custom-
house search ; but in Spain, such matters
always depend upon circumstances. A Colonel
in the Spanish service chanced to occupy a seat
in the diligence ; and no custom-house officer in
Spain, dare to put a person holding a military
commission to a moment's inconvenience. The
consequence was, that in place of being detained
three hours upon the bridge, until every pack-
age should be lowered and opened, the Colonel
merely thrust his arm out of the window; and
the custom-house officers, seeing around his
wrist the proofs of his military rank, doffed
their caps, and stood back ; and the diligence

E 2

52 SPAIN IN 1S30.

passed on. Superior military rank in the Spa-
nish service is not indicated by more gorgeous
trappings : the Colonel discards the epaulets,
and is known by two narrow stripes round the
wrist, while the General merely invests his loins
with a crimson girdle.

Upon first entering Castile, the country
affords some promise of interest. We traverse
a narrow defile, guarded by precipitous and
majestic rocks, and are pleased by the pic-
turesque views which are caught at intervals
on both sides ; but this defile does not extend
more than a league in length, and we then
enter upon an open and flat corn country,
which stretches all the way to Burgos. The
soil in this tract of land appeared to be very
unequal. I saw whole fields covered with
thistles, among which flocks of sheep were
picking a scanty meal ; and, although I was
unable to judge of the productiveness of other
parts by the growing crops, the harvest being
in many places already gathered, I observed
vast heaps of grain every half league or less ;
part of it thrashed and winnowed, and part
going through these operations. All through
both the Castiles, the grain is not housed ;
large flat spots, one or two hundred yards
across, are selected for its reception — here it is

SPAIN IN 1830. 53

thrashed and winnowed ; the former operation
being performed by passing over it a sledge
with a curved bottom, drawn by one mule,
which is guided by a woman who stands upon
the sledge, and who facilitates the operation by
her weight. This custom of keeping the grain
in the open air, adds much to the labour of the
husbandman : if rain come, there is no remedy
but to cover the grain heaps with cloths,— a very
ineffectual protection against the torrents that
sometimes descend from Spanish skies ; and
when the rain ceases, it is necessary again to
spread the grain, and expose it to the influence
of the sun.

We reached Burgos early in the afternoon,
and the short interval allowed us there, sufficed
for a glance at the cathedral. In its exterior,
the cathedral of Burgos will yield to no other
in Spain : in the number, and elegance of the
pinnacles which surmount it, it surpasses them
all ; but the interior, although remarkable for the
beauty of the workmanship -with which in some
parts it is decorated, and although entitled
to rank among the most magnificent temples
dedicated to religion, is yet inferior to the
cathedrals both of Toledo and of Seville, in
grandeur, as well as in richness ; and as I
purposed seeing both of these cathedrals, I

54 SPAIN IN 1880.

regreted less, the impossibility of examining
minutely, the cathedral of Burgos. The little
that I saw of Burgos pleased me ; and had I not
subsequently visited Toledo, I should have set
down Burgos as the best specimen I had seen of
an old Castilian city : but in this, Toledo stands
unrivalled.

Between Burgos and Lerma, I passed through
vast tracts of uncultivated, and much of it,
uncultivable land, mostly covered with a thick
underwood of aromatic and medicinal plants ;
in some parts, the perfume from these was so
strong, that I could scarcely believe myself to
be elsewhere than in an apothecary's shop. I
found all this part of Old Castile very scantily
peopled ; and the quantity of cultivated land
seemed to be quite equal to the probable
demand upon its produce. At night- fall we
reached Lerma, where a comfortable posada
received us. We were beset at the door by a
crowd of ragged beggars, who however, urged
their claims scarcely more obtrusively than the
poor Franciscan monk of Sterne, who crossed
his hands upon his breast, and retired. The
Spanish beggar is unlike the beggar of every
other country, in this — that he is easily repulsed ;
he seldom urges his claim twice ; but indeed,
his raggedness, and apparent destitution, often

SPAIN IN 1830. 00

render a second appeal unnecessary. I observed
that every one of these beggars wore three or
four necklaces, and several rings— baubles, no
doubt blessed at the shrine of some saint. In
the posada at Lerma, I found iron bedsteads,
a most acceptable discovery in a hot climate ;
and the supper table was both neatly laid out,
and well provided. The miseries of an Anda-
lusian Venta were yet in reserve. Between
Vittoria and Madrid, the traveller has little
cause of complaint ; I always found a clean bed,
and something upon the table, of which it was
possible to make a tolerable meal. There is
only one part of the arrangement defective : in
place of supping when the diligence arrives,
there is generally an interval of two hours,
which might be spent in sleep, if the arrange-
ments were better. In all the posadas upon
this road, the traveller pays for dinner and
supper whether he partakes of them or not :
this is what the Spaniards call indemnificacion,
which is charged at two- thirds of the price of
the meal. This indemnification I think perfectly
fair ; were it otherwise, the traveller could find
nothing upon his arrival ; for upon a road where
there are no travellers, the innkeeper dare not
trust to the appetites, or will, of those who
arrive by the diligence ; because if his meal

56 SPAIN IN 1830.

should be rejected, he could find no other
market for it.

The country to the south of Lerma is a
desert ; indeed it is nothing better than a desert
that stretches between the Ebro and the Diioro.
I passed this latter river at Aranda ; a small,
wretched place, full of misery and rags ; and
afterwards traversed extensive woods of chestnut
and ilex, which stretch three or four leagues to
the foot of a low sierra, which is the natural
boundary between Old and New Castile. Soon
after entering this sierra, I passed through the
most miserable village that I have seen in any
part of Spain : it is quite impossible for one
who has never seen the very lowest of the
Spanish poor, to form the smallest conception of
the general appearance of the inhabitants of
this village. I saw between two and three
hundred persons ; and among these, there was
not one, whose rags half covered his nakedness.
Men and women were like bundles of ill-assorted
shreds and patches of a hundred hues and sizes ;
and as for the children, I saw several entirely
naked, and many that might as well have been
without their tattered coverings. I threw a few
biscuits among the children ; and the eager-
ness with which they fought for, and devoured
them, reminded mc rather of young wolves than

SPAIN IN 18;50. 57

of human beings. The badness of tlie pavement,
and the steepness of the street, made it neces-
sary for the diligence to go slowly ; and I
profited by the delay to look into one or two
of the miserable abodes of these unfortunate
beings. I found a perfect unison between the
dweller and his dwellins^ : I could not see one
article of furniture ; no table, no chair : a few
large stones supplied the place of the latter ;
for the former there was no occasion ; and
something resembling a mattress upon the mud
floor, was the bed of the family. Leaving this
village, I noticed two stone pillars, and a
wooden pole across, indicating that the proprie-
tor possesses the power of life and death within
his own domain. I forget the name of the
grandee at whose door lies all this misery ; but
if the power of life and death be his, and if he
cannot make the former more tolerable, it
would be humanity to inflict the latter.

A short distance beyond this village, we
passed into New Castile, and stopped for the
night at a small hamlet at the entrance of the
Soino Sierra. Here, I cannot refrain from re-
lating a somewhat ludicrous incident that took
place during the night. The chamber in which
I slept, was div ided from another smaller cham-

58 SPAIN IN 1880.

ber merely by a curtain ; and this inner room
was occupied by a young Spaniard. We retired
to our respective beds about the same hour, and
1 was speedily fast asleep. Some time during
the night, I was awoke by loud, and most
uncommon noises; and when I was sufficiently
awake to be master of my senses, I discovered
that the noises proceeded from the adjacent
chamber ; but the nature of the noise was such,
as set at defiance all conjecture as to its cause.
I heard the stamping of feet, the clanking of
spurs, and the strokes of some heavy instru-
ment ; but the combatants, whoever they were,
fought in silence, for not a word was uttered. 1
need scarcely say that sounds so unaccountable
in my immediate vicinity, excited my utmost
curiosity ; and stealing out of bed, I groped my
way to the door leading into the passage, that I
might obtain a light ; this, I soon procured, and
returning to the scene of action, I found the
noises as loud and as strange as ever. I cau-
tiously drew aside the curtain, and a spectacle
was revealed almost worthy of Don Quixote.
There stood the Spaniard in his shirt, booted
and spurred, his cloak thrown over one arm, and
the other, dealing blows right and left with a
naked sword. I was about to make a hasty

SPAIN IN 1830. 59

retreat, conceiving the unfortunate gentleman to
be in a state of derangement, when he called
out to me to give him a light, and at the same
time ceased battle. The explanation is this —
not being able to get off his boots, my com-
panion had lain down booted and spurred ; and
as was his usual custom, he had deposited a
sword near his bed ; he was awoke by the
tread of several rats over his face ; at least so he
asserted; and in a state between sleeping and
waking, he had jumped from bed, grasped his
sword, seized his cloak as a buckler, and com-
menced warfare. But for my own part, 1 believe
the action of the Spaniard to have begun in
sleep, and to have been the result of a dream.
We were afterwards intimately acquainted, and
saw each other almost every day while I
remained in Madrid ; and we often laughed
together at the recollection of the Quixotic
adventure in the posada.

We left the village where we had slept, some
hours before day-break. I never beheld a more
refulgent moon than shone that ni^ht. I was
never before able to distinguish colours by
moonlight ; but this night, the scene presented
almost the distinctness and variety of a sun-
lit landscape, with the soft and dewy mellow-

60 SPAIN IN 1830.

ness of a tenderer light. The scenery of the
Somo-Sierra is rocky, wild and dreary; robbers
are occasionally seen here ; and the diligence
had taken two additional guards from the last
village. Before day-break we had passed the
Sierra, and we then entered upon the wide arid
desert, in the centre of which stands the capital
of Spain. As we approached Madrid, we passed
long trains of mules, laden with cut straw for
the use of the mules in the metropolis ; and we
also passed some trains laden with bales of
goods, every mule having a carabine slung by
its side.

From the Somo-Sierra to the gates of Madrid,
a distance of nearly thirty miles, there is not a
tree to be seen : not a garden ; not one country
house ; scarcely an isolated farm-house or cot-
tage, and only three or four very inconsiderable
villages. Great part of the land is uncultivated,
and that part of it which is laboured, and which
produces grain, is mostly covered with weeds
and stones. In the midst of this desert stands
Madrid, which is not visible until you approach
within less than two leagues of the gate. Its
appearance from this side is not striking : the
city seems small ; and although we may count
upwards of 50 spires and towers, none of these

SPAIN IN 1830. Gl

are so elevated or imposing, as to awaken cu-
riosity like that which is felt when we first
discover the towers of some of the temples dedi-
cated to religion, in others of the Spanish cities.
If the traveller turned his back upon Madrid
when within half a mile of the gates, he might
still believe himself to be a hundred miles
from any habitation : the road stretches away,
speckled only by a few mules ; there are no
carriages ; no horsemen ; scarcely even a pedes-
trian : there is, in fact, not one sign of vicinity
to a great city.

I entered Madrid about mid- day, and after a
very slight examination of luggage at the cus-
tom-house, I took up my residence at the Cruz
de Malta. There are only two hotels in Madrid
that are habitable — the Cruz de Alalia, and the
FontaJia de Oro,— hut both of these are as far as
possible from being comfortable. I was charged
at the Cruz de Malta, the extraordinary sum of
60 reals, \2s. 6d., for one room, for one day ; a
charge that immediately suggested to me the
propriety of establishing myself in private lodg-
ings as speedily as possible.

Before concluding this chapter, let me say
a single word respecting the mode and con-
veniences, and expenses of travelling from

62 SPAIN IN 1830.

Bayonne to Madrid. There are only a few
roads in Spain that are passable for carriages,
and these of course connect the great towns.
These roads are, from Madrid to Bayonne, —
from Madrid to Seville, — from Madrid to Za-
ragossa and Barcellona, —from Madrid to Va-
lentia, — from Madrid to Salamanca, — and from
Madrid to Portugal. There are also a few others
from one provincial town to another ; such as
from Valencia to Barcellona, — from Barcellona
to the frontier, — from Burgos to Valladolid, and
perhaps two or three others. There are not
more than twelve roads in Spain passable for a
four-wheeled carriage ; and upon all of these,
there are now diligences established ; of which,
the accommodation and conveniences are nearly
equal. I confine my remarks at present to
diligence travelling; I shall by and by, have
many opportunities of enlarging upon the very
different modes of travelling in Andalusia,
Murcia, and Granada. I have no hesitation in
affirming, that the Spanish diligences are the
best in the world ; they are extremely commo-
dious, well cushioned, and well hung, and are
admirably contrived for the exclusion of both
heat and cold. Like the French diligences, they
have a coupe, in all respects as good as a post-

SPAIN IN 1830. 63

chaise, and generally they have no rotonde : they
are drawn by seven, eight, or nine mules, ac-
cording to the nature of the road, and travel at
the rate of seven miles an hour. The conductors
are remarkably civil ; and in punctuality as to
the hours of departure and arrival, and in every
arrangement that can conduce to the comfort of
the passengers, there is no room for improve-
ment. When a passenger secures his seat, he
receives a paper from the bureau, specifying the
precise place he is to occupy ; and when he
delivers his baggage, he is presented with a
receipt for the articles delivered, and for which
the proprietors are responsible. The price of
places in the Spanish diligences varies greatly.
In some roads the fare is as low as in France or
England ; on others, it is more expensive than
travelling post. From Bayonne to Madrid, the
fare, including conductor and postilions, is some-
thing less than 5/. ; but from Madrid to Seville,
about one-fourth greater distance, the expense
is nearly double ; and it may be right to men-
tion that each passenger is allowed 25 lb. weight
of baggage ; for every pound beyond this, he
pays one real, 2^d. These details may appear
to some to be insignificant ; but independently
of the obligation that lies upon a traveller, to

CA SPAIN IN 1830.

withhold no useful information, I cannot but
think that such details may occasionally throw
some light upon the state of a country. For my
own part, I may say most truly, that the regu-
larity and order, I might almost say, the per-
fection, visible in every department of the
establishment of public conveyances throughout
Spain, struck me with astonishment, and may
perhaps afford some data by which we may
judge of the improvement of which Spain might
be susceptible under more favourable circum-
stances.

CHAPTER III.

MADRID.

Streets and Street Population ; Female Dress : the Mantilla, the
Fan ; aspect of the Streets of Madrid at different hours ; the
Siesta ; Shops ; good and bad Smells ; State of the lower Orders •
Analysis of the Population ; Street Sketches ; Sunday in Ma-
drid ; the Calle de Alcala ; Convents ; the Street of the Inquisi-
tion; private Apartments in Madidd; the Prado and its Attrac-
tions; ludicrous Incongruities; Spanish Women, and their
Claims ; the Fan and its uses ; Portraits ; inconvenient Exaction
of Loyalty ; the Philosophy of good walking ; the Retiro ; Cas-
tilian Skies; the Cafe Catalina and its Visitors; other Coffee
Rooms, and Political Reflections ; the Botanical Garden, strange
Regulation on entering ; the Theatres ; Spanish Play Bills •
Teatro del Principe ; the Cazuela and Intrigue ; Spanish Comedy ;
the Bolero ; the Italian Company ; cultivation of Music in
Madrid ; the Guitar ; Vocal Music ; Spanish Music.

The traveller who arrives in Madrid from the
north, has greatly the advantage over him who
reaches the capital from any other point : every
thing is newer to him. If one enter Spain at
Cadiz, and travel through Seville and Cordova

VOL. I. J.

66 SPAIN IN 1830.

to Madrid, the edge of curiosity is blunted ;
much of the novelty of Spanish life is already
exhausted ; and Madrid possesses comparatively
little to interest : but travelling to the capital,
through Castile, one arrives in Madrid almost as
unlearned in the modes of Spanish life, as if the
journey had been performed by sea ; nor is the
interest with which the traveller afterwards
sees Cardova and Seville greatly diminished,
by having previously seen Madrid. For, al-
though the aspect of a Spanish town, and the
modes of Spanish life are then familiar to him, —
Cordova, and Seville, and the other cities of
the south, possess an exclusive interest, in the
remains of the Moorish empire, — in the pecu-
liarity of the natural productions around them
— in the climate, which exercises an important
influence upon the habits of the people, — and in
the taint of Moorish usages, visible in all those
provinces which continued the longest time
under the dominion of the Moors. With curi-
osity therefore on the tiptoe, to see the capital
of Spain, and the Spaniards in their capital, I
hastened into the streets.

The stranger who walks for the first time
through the streets of Madrid, is struck with

SPAIN IN 18,30. G7

the sombreness of the prospect that is presented
to him : this, he speedily discovers, arises from
the costume of the women. It is the varied
and many-coloured attire of the female sex,
that gives to the streets of other great cities
their air of gaiety and liveliness. No pink, and
green, and yellow, and blue silk bonnets, nod
along the streets of Madrid ; for the women
wear no bonnets, — no ribbons of more than all
the hues of the rainbow, chequer the pave-
ment ; for the women of Madrid do not under-
stand the use of ribbons. Only conceive the
sombreness of a population without a bonnet or
a ribbon, and all, or nearly all, in black ! yet
such is the population of Madrid. Every
woman in Spain wears a mantilla, which varies
in quality and expense, with the station of the
wearer : and, for the benefit of those who,
though they may have heard of a mantilla, have
an imperfect idea of what it is, I shall describe
it. A mantilla, is a scarf thrown over the head
and shoulders ; behind, and at the sides, it
descends nearly to the waist ; and falling in
front over a very high comb, is gathered, and
fastened, generally by something ornamental,

F 2

68 SPAIN IN 1830.

just above the forehead, at the lower part of
the hair. Of old, there was a veil attached to
the fore-part of the mantilla, which was used
or thrown back, according to the fancy of the
wearer; but veils are now rarely seen in Spain,
excepting at mass. Of the rank and means of
a Spanish woman, something may be gathered
from the mantilla, though this cannot be consi-
dered any certain criterion, since Spanish
women will make extraordinary sacrifices for
the sake of dress. Yet there are three distinct
grades of the mantilla: the lady in the upper
ranks of life, and most of those in the middle
ranks, wear the lace mantilla ; some of blond —
some of English net, worked in Spain ; and
these vary in price, from 41. or 51. to 20/. The
Bourgeoises generally wear the mantilla, part
lace and part silk ; the lace in front, and the
silk behind, with lace trimmings ; and the
lower orders wear a mantilla wholly of silk, or
of silk, trimmed with velvet. Spain is the only
country in Europe in which a national dress
extends to the upper ranks ; but even in Spain
this distinction begins to give way. In the
streets, no one yet ventures to appear without
the mantilla; but French hats are frequently

SPAIN IN 1830. 69

seen in carriages and in the theatre ; and the
black silk gown, once as indispensible as the
mantilla, sometimes gives place to silks of other
colours ; and even a French or English printed
muslin, may occasionally be seen on the Prado.
But although the sombre dress of the women,
and the consequent absence of bright colours,
seemed at first to give a gloomy cast to the ex-
terior of the population of Madrid, a little closer
observance of it disclosed a variety and pic-
turesqueness not to be found in any other of
the European countries. The dress of the
women, although sombre, bears in the eye of a
stranger a character of both novelty and grace.
The round turned-up hat and crimson sash of the
peasant ; the short green jacket and bare legs
and sandals of the innumerable water-carriers,
who call aqua fresca ; the sprinkling of the mi-
litary costume ; and above all, the grotesque
dresses of the multitudes of friars of different
orders, gave to the scene a character of origi-
nality exclusively its own. No feature in the
scene before me appeared more novel than the
universality of the fan; a Spanish woman would
be quite as likely to go out of doors without her
shoes, as without her fan. I saw not one female

70 SPAIN IN 1830.

in the streets without this indispensible append-
age. The portly dame, and her stately daughter;
the latter six paces in advance, as is the uni-
versal custom throughout Spain, walked fanning
themselves ; the child of six years old, held
mamma with one hand, and fanned herself with
the other ; the woman sitting at her stall selling
figs, sat fanning herself; and the servant coming
from market, carried her basket with one arm,
and fanned herself with the other. To me, who
had never before seen a fan but in the hands of
a lady, this seemed ridiculous enough.

The streets of Madrid present a totally dif-
ferent aspect, at different hours of the day :
before one o'clock, all is nearly as I have de-
scribed it; bustling and busy, and thronged
with people of all ranks, of whom the largest
proportion are always females ; for the women
of Madrid spend much of their time in the
streets, going and coming from mass, shopping
(a never failing resource,) and going and coming
from the Prado. But from one o'clock till four,
tlie aspect of every thing is changed: the shops
are either shut, or a curtain is drawn before the
door ; the shutters of every window are closed ;
scarcely a respectable person is seen in the

SPAIN IN 18;50. 71

street ; the stall-keepers spread cloths over
their wares, and go to sleep ; groups of the
poor and idle are seen stretched in the shade ;
and the water-carriers, throwing their jackets
over their faces, make pillows of their water
casks. But the siesta over, all is again life and
bustle; the curtains are withdrawn, the balconies
are filled with ladies, the sleejDcrs shake off their
drowsiness, and the water-carriers resume their
vocation, and deafen us with the cry of aqua
fresca. These water-carriers are a curious race,
and are as necessary to the Spanish peasant as
the vender of beer is to the English labourer :
with a basket and glass in the right-hand, and
a water jar on the left shoulder, they make in-
cessant appeals to the appetite for cold water,
and during the summer, drive a lucrative trade ;
and so habituated is the Spaniard to the use of
cold water, that I have observed little diminu-
tion in the demand for it, when the morning
temperature of the air was such as would have
made even an Englishman shrink from so com-
fortless a beverage.

Frequently, while in Madrid, 1 walked out
early in the morning, that I might hear the de-
lightful music that accompanies the morning

72 SPAIN IN 1830.

service in the Convento de las Salesas ; and then
the streets wore a different appearance, — flocks
of goats were bevouacked here and there to
supply milk to those who cannot afford to buy
cows' milk. Porters, water-carriers, stall-
keepers, and market people, were making a
breakfast of grapes and bread ; and here and
there a friar might be seen, with his sack slung
over his back, begging supplies for his convent.
One morning, I had the curiosity to follow a
young friar of the Franciscan order the whole
length of the Calk de Montera ; he asked up-
wards of forty persons for alms, and entered
every shop, and only two persons listened to his
petition, — one of these was an old lame beggar,
sitting at a door, who put half a quarto into his
hand ; the other was an old gentleman with a
cocked hat, and certain other insignia of holding
some government employment.

In my first perambulation of the streets of
Madrid, I remarked, with astonishment, the
extraordinary number of shops appropriated to
the sale of combs. Throughout Spain, but
especially in Madrid, the comb is an indispens-
ible and important part of every woman's
dress, and a never failing accompaniment of

SPAIN IN 1830. 73

the mantilla. A fashionable Spanish comb is
not less than a foot long, and eight or nine
inches broad ; and no woman considers from
nine to fifteen dollars (from 2/. to 3/.) too much
to give for this appendage ; accordingly, every
tenth shop, at least, is a comb shop. Another
very numerous class of shops appeared to belong
to booksellers ; and a third — shops filled with
remnants and shreds of cloth of all kinds and
colours, which partly accounts for the patched
appearance of the garments of the lowest orders,
who doubtless find in these repositories the
means of repairing their worn-out clothes. I
had one day the curiosity to walk leisurely
through two of the principal commercial streets,
and to take a note of the different shops they
contained. In the Calic de Carretas, I found
sixteen booksellers, ten venders of combs, three
jewellers, two hardware shops, two gold and
silver embroiderers, two chocolate shops, two
fan shops, six drapers and silk mercers, one
woollen draper, one hatter, one perfumer, one
fruiterer, one print shoj), one wine shop, and
one stocking shop. In the Calk de Montcra,
I found eight drapers and silk-mercers, eight
jewellers, five hardware shops, four watch-

74 SPAIN IN 1830.

makers, three china and crystal shops, three
grocers, five embroiderers, three booksellers,
three perfumers, three pawnbrokers, three choco-
late shops, two fan shops, four comb shops, four
provision shops, two money changers, two ven-
ders of ornaments for churches, two glove shops,
two shoemakers, two gunsmiths, three venders
of cocks and hens, and two of singing birds.

Walking through the streets of Madrid, you
are one moment arrested by a pleasant smell,
and the next stunned by a bad one ; among
the former, is the fragrant perfume from the
cinnamon to be mixed with the chocolate : at
the door of every chocolate shop, a person is to
be seen beating cinnamon in a large mortar.
Another pleasant smell arises from the heaps of
melons that lie on the streets. This custom,
by-the-by, of heaping fruit on the street, re-
quires that one unaccustomed to the streets of
Madrid should look well to his feet, — melons,
oranges, apples, and many other kinds of fruit,
lie every where in the way of the passenger,
who is in constant dangerof being toppled over.
Among the bad smells that assail one, the most
common, and to me the most offensive, is the
smell of oil in preparation for cooking. The

SPAIN IN 1830. 75

Spanish oil is unpleasant both to the taste and
smell ; but I have heard well-informed persons
say that the fault does not lie in the oil, but in
the manner of expressing it ; this may proba-
bly be true, — the oil of Catalunia is as unpleas-
ant as that of Andalusia, and yet the olives of
Catalunia grow in a latitude little different from
the most southerly parts of France, from which
the most excellent oil is produced. As I have
mentioned offensive smells, let me not omit
one offensive sight, — I allude to the constant
practice of combing and cleaning the hair in the
street : in most of the less frequented streets,
persons are seen at every second or third door
intent upon this employment; and sometimes
the occupation includes a scrutiny, at the nature
of which the reader must be contented to guess ;
and even in the most frequented streets, if two
women be seated at fruit-stalls near each other,
one is generally engaged in combing, assorting,
and occasionally scrutinizing the hair of the
other. Sights like these neutralize, in some
degree, the enjoyment which a stranger might
otherwise find in the delicious flavour of Mus-
catel grapes.

I was prepared to find much more wretched-

76 SPAIN IN 1830.

ness and poverty among the lower orders in
Madrid, than is apparent — I might perhaps say,
than exists there. There is much misery in
Madrid, but it lies among a different class, of
whom I shall have occasion to speak after-
wards : at present, I speak merely of the lowest
class of the inhabitants, among whom, in every
great city, there is always a certain proportion
of miserably poor. I purposely walked several
times into the lowest quarters of the city, but I
never encountered any such pictures of poverty
and wretchedness as are to be found abundantly
in Paris, London, Dublin, Manchester, and
other great towns of France and England.
When the king arrived in Madrid from La
Granja, there were at least 10,000 persons
present at his entree ; and upon the occasion of the
queen's accouchement, there were three times
that number in the court of the palace ; and yet
I did not see a single person in rags — scarcely
even a beggar. It is possible, however, that
a cloak may conceal much wretchedness ; and
of this I had one day an example. Sauntering
one morning in the retired part of the Prado, in
front of the botanical garden, I sat down upon
the low wall that supports the iron railing : a

SPAIN IN 1830. 77

man, with a decent cloak wrapped around him,
sat a few paces distant, seemingly in a reverie ;
he happened to have taken his seat upon some
prohibited place, and one of the guards, un-
perceived by him, walked forward, and tapped
him on the shoulder with his musket : whether
the sudden start which this intrusion occa-
sioned had unfastened the cloak, or whether he
had accidentally let go his hold of it, is of
no consequence ; but the cloak dropped half off
his body, and I discovered that it was his only
garment, excepting his neckcloth : the man was
no beggar ; he hastily replaced the cloak, and
walked away. He was probably one of that
class who, in Madrid, sacrifice all to the ex-
terior ; or, possibly, one of those very few Cas-
tilians, who yet inherit old Castilian pride, and
who would die rather than ask an alms.

But it is not difficult to assign plausible
reasons for the fact, that the utterly destitute
form but a very trifling proportion of the in-
habitants of Madrid. Madrid lives by the
court ; it is said that the employees, including all
grades, and the military, form one fourth part of
the whole inhabitants. The professional per-
sons, especially those connected with the law.

78 SPAIN IN 1830.

form a large body ; the friars and priests, a still
larger. In Madrid, too, are assembled the
greater number of the nobles and rich pro-
prietors ; so that more than one half of the
inhabitants live upon their salaries and rents.
We have then to consider the great number
of tradespeople, artificers, and shopkeepers re-
quired to supply the wants of the former classes ;
add to these, the common labourers, servants,
market people, itinerant venders, porters, water
carriers, fruiterers, and the seminaries, hos-
pitals, and prisons ; and if, as is said to be the
case, the employees, the military, the profes-
sional men, and all their families, together with
priests and friars, amount to 80,000 persons, we
may easily account for the other 80,000, without
the necessity of filling up a blank with the
utterly destitute. Indeed, the lowest orders in
Madrid, are the water-carriers and fruiterers ;
and these are not a fixed population ; many
belong to the neighbouring villages, and to the
fruit countries bordering on the Tagus ; and in
the winter months, these leave the capital. There
is always a resource for the most destitute in
Madrid, in the trade of a water-carrier : he
weaves a little basket of rushes ; pays a couple

I

SPAIN IN 18.30. 79

of reals for a couple of glasses, and he is at once
equipped as a vender of aqua fresca. Madrid
has no manufacture, so that labour is not at-
tracted to the capital, to be afterwards subject
to the vicissitudes of trade ; nor is there any
spirit of enterprise, whose caprices demand a
constant supply of superabundant labour. These
may, or may not, be deemed sufficient reasons
for the fact I have wished to account for, — the
reader may probably be able to add others. The
fact, however, is certain, that in no city of
Europe ranking with Madrid, is there so little
apparent wretchedness.

There is less appearance of business in the
streets of Madrid, than in any city I have ever
seen: the population seem to have turned out
to enjoy themselves. Two things contribute
mainly to give that air of ease and pleasure to
the pursuits of the inhabitants of Madrid ; the
great proportion of women of whom the street-
population is composed, — and the extreme
slowness of movement. The women of Madrid
have nothing to detain them at home ; the
ladies have no home occupations as in London ;
nor have the majority of the bourgeoises any shop
duties to perform as in Paris, — the street is,

80 SPAIN IN 1830.

therefore, their only resource from ennui. And
there is something in extreme slowness of
motion, that is entirely opposed to business and
duties, — a quick step, and a necessary one, are
closely allied ; but the street population of
Madrid, with few exceptions, merely saunter;
and wherever you reach an open space, especially
the Puerta del Sol, — a small square in the centre
of the city, — hundreds of gentlemen are seen
standing, with no other occupation than shaking
the dust from their segars. The great numbers of
military too, strolling arm in arm, and, above all,
the innumerable priests and monks, with whom
we at once connect idleness and ease, give to the
street population of Madrid an appearance of
pleasure seeking, which is peculiar to itself,
and is perhaps little removed from truth.

On Sunday, Madrid presents the same aspect
as on other days, with this difterence, that the
shops and the streets are more crowded ; and
that the lower classes, and the bourgeoises, are
better attired. On Sunday evening, the houses
are deserted ; the whole population of Madrid
pours down the Calle de Alcala, to the Prado.
Every Sunday afternoon, from four o'clock until
six or seven, this street, nearly a mile in length,

SPAIN IN 1830. 81

and, at least, twice as broad as Portland Place,
is crowded from end to end, and from wall to
wall, so that a carriage finds some difficulty in
making its way. Among this crowd, I have
often looked in vain, to find an ill-dressed per-
son ; but this exterior is no real index to the
condition of those who throng the Prado. I
have reason to know, that hundreds, who by
their dress might pass for courtiers, have dined
upon bread and a bunch of grapes, and go from
the Paseo to hide themselves in a garret ; and
females have been pointed out to me, whose
mantilla, comb, and fan could not have cost
less than 10/., who were starving upon a pen-
sion of 2,500 reals (25/.).

As I have mentioned the Calle de Alcala, let
me speak of this street as it deserves to be
spoken of. I know of no finer entry to any city ;
I might perhaps say, no one so fine, as that to
Madrid by the Calle de Alcala. Standing at the
foot of this street, you have on the right and left
the long, wide Prado, with its quadruple row of
trees stretching in fine perspective to the gates
that terminate it; behind is the magnificent gate
of Alcala, a fine model of architectural beauty;
and before lies the Calle de Alcala, reaching into

VOL. I. G

82 SPAIN IN 1830.

the heart of the city, — long, of superb width,
and flanked by a splendid range of unequal
buildings, — among others the hotels of many of
the ambassadors ; the two fine convents of Las
Calatravas, and Las Ballecas, and the Custom-
house. But theCalle de Alcala is the only really
fine street in Madrid ; many of the other streets
are good, and very many respectable, of toler-
able width, and the houses lofty and well built;
but there is no magnificent street, excepting the
Calle de Alcala. Like all the other cities in Spain,
the streets, abstracted from the population, have
a sombre aspect, owing to the number of con-
vents, whose long reach of wall, grated windows,
and lack of doors, throw a chill over the mind of
the passer by. There are no fewer than sixty-
two convents for men and women in Madrid;
and it frequently happens that one side of a
whole street is occupied by a convent : in the
Calle de Atocha there are no fewer than eight
convents ; and some of the streets on the out-
skirts, contain scarcely any houses, but those
dedicated to religion.

Walking one day in company with a priest,
— a very intelligent and learned man, of whose
society I was always glad, — I chanced to observe
the inscription upon the corner of one of the

ll

.1

SPAIN IN 1830. 83

streets, and read Calle de la luquisicion ; my
curiosity was immediately awakened ; I had
intended before leaving Madrid, to have sought
out the spot memorable from the atrocities with
which it is connected ; and this accidental ren-
contre saved me the trouble of a search. I im-
mediately expressed my anxiety to see the
building, and to enter it if possible ; and
requested my companion to have the goodness
to be my Cicerone ; but I found that the terrors
of the Inquisition had outlived its power ; my
companion assured me there was nothing to see ;
the building he believed was shut up, and no
one could enter ; indeed he doubted if he per-
fectly knew where the building was situated. I
saw the difficulty of the priest ; there might' be
danger in guiding a heretic to the precincts of
the holy office ; and so, requesting him to wait
for me, I went in search of the building. I had
no difficulty in finding it, but there was little to
reward my search ; it was the building in
which prisoners were confined, but not that in
which they were judged and tortured. This
was in an immediately adjoining street, formerly
called the street of the Grand Inquisitor, whose
house, including all the offices of the court, fills

c; 2

84 SPAIN IN 1830.

almost one side of the street. It seems at first
sight surprising, that the Inquisition, like the
Bastile, was not torn down during the time of
the Constitution ; but the prime movers, and
even the instruments in that revolution, were
of the upper ranks ; and it is a certain fact,
that many among the Pueblo Bajo look even now
without any horror, some with veneration, upon
the building once dedicated to the maintenance
of the Roman Catholic faith. The building-
used as the prison of the Inquisition, was con-
structed above immense vaults, originally formed
by the Moors ; and afterwards converted into
dungeons. I requested permission to visit them,
but I was told that the air in the dungeons was
such as to render a visit to them unsafe.

From the prisons I went to the other branch
of the Inquisition in the adjoining street. A
part of the house of the Grand Inquisitor is in a
dilapidated state, but other parts are inhabited
by private individuals. The porter, notwith-
standing a liberal bribe, made much difficulty
in allowing me to enter, but I at last prevailed
with him, and he conducted me to the room
formerly used as the hall of justice, or rather of
judgment; and although I saw nothing but a

SPAIN IN 1830. 85

long gloomy room without one article of fur-
niture, it required but little exercise of imagina-
tion to see, in fancy, the Inquisitors and their
satellites, the trembling accused, and the instru-
ments of torture. It appears incredible, that
any others than those to whom its existence
would bring power or wealth, should desire the
re-establishment of the Inquisition; and yet, I
feel myself justified in believing, that many
would look upon its restoration with com-
placency; and that the great majority of the
lower orders would behold this with perfect
indifference. If so, they deserve to be cursed
with it.

The dirtiness and want of comfort in the Cniz
de Malta, would have driven me into private
lodgings, even if the charges in the hotel had
been supportable ; I hastened therefore to de-
liver my letters, that I might be aided in my
search by those to whom I carried recommenda-
tions ; and by the kind assistance of Sr. Mozo,
one of the Consejeros del Rey, I was soon es-
tablished in comfortable apartments in the Calk
de la Madalena. It may be interesting to some,
to know the nature and price of private accom-
modation in Madrid. My apartments were on

86 SPAIN IN 1830.

the second floor, (in Madrid every floor is a
separate house, excepting among the very
highest ranks) and consisted of one very large
room, 40 feet long, by 22 broad, with tw^o very
large windows facing the street ; a small bed-
room, separated from this large room by a glass
door; and another small room, beyond the bed-
room, to be employed as an eating room. These
rooms were brick-floored, as every room is, in
the northern and central parts of Spain ; and
the walls white-washed. The apartments were
furnished with basket-chairs and sofas, a bed,
and two or three tables ; and for this accommo-
dation, including service and cooking, I paid
20 reals per day, or 1/. 9^. 2d. per week. This
was certainly not remarkably cheap ; but the
situation was good, and the rooms were clean
and airy.

Being thus established in lodgings, my first
duty was to find the hotel of the British minis-
ter, and to present to him my letter of intro-
duction from Lord Aberdeen ; and I gladly
avail myself of this opportunity to express my
obligations to Henry Unwin Addington, Esq. ;
not only for his uniform kindness and attention
while we remained in Madrid, and for the often

'

SPAIN IN 1830. 87

repeated hospitalities of his house ; but for his
readiness to assist me in whatever way the
representative of the British Government could
make his interest available in forwarding my
objects. For some lesser favours, I am also
Mr. Addington's debtor ; among others, the
privilege of perusing the English newspapers,
no small privilege in a country where the only
journal is the Gaceta de Madrid. Walking one
day towards my lodgings, with a file oi Courier's
in my hand, I noticed that I was followed, and
narrowly scrutinized by some persons in au-
thority ; but they, no doubt, became informed
where I procured this forbidden fruit, and I
never suffered any farther interruption.

The day after my arrival in Madrid was Sun-
day, and having finished my puchero, and
drank a reasonable quantity of Val de Penas,
I prepared to join the tide that was slowly
rolling towards the Prado.

Every Spaniard is proud of the Prado at
Madrid ; and but for the Prado, the inhabitants
of Madrid would look upon life as a thing of
very little value ; every body goes every night
to the Prado ; every body — man, woman, and
child— looks forward to the evening promenade

88 SPAIN IN 1830.

with pleasure and impatience ; every body asks
every body the same question, shall you be on
the Paseo to night ? how did you like the Paseo
last night ? every night, at the same hour, the
dragoons take their place along the Prado, to
regulate the order and line of carriages : and
the only difference between Sunday night and
any other night on the Prado is, that on Sun-
day it is frequented by those who can afford
to dress only once a week, as well as by those
who can dress every day. It was impossible
that I could permit the first Sunday to pass
away without seeing the Prado; accordingly,
accompanied by a colonel in the Spanish ser-
vice, whose name, for certain reasons, I refrain
from mentioning, I took the road to the Prado.

The Prado, divested of its living attraction,
is certainly not entitled to the extravagant
praises bestowed upon it by the Spaniards :
it is a fine spacious paseo, at least two miles
long, and from 200 to 300 yards broad, adorned
with rows of trees, and with several fountains ;
the frequented part, however, is not more than
half a mile in length, and has scarcely any
shade. But the Prado, although in itself not
possessing the natural attractions of that of

SPAIN IN 1830. 89

Vienna, or perhaps of some others, is an admir-
able resort for a stranger who is desirous of
seeing the population of Madrid. When I
reached it, it seemed already crowded, though
a dense stream of population was still pouring
into it from the Calk de Alcala. On the part
appropriated to carriages, there was already a
double row of vehicles, bespeaking, by their
slow motion, the stateliness of character said to
belong to the Spanish aristocracy. The turn-out
of carriages presented a strange melange of ele-
gance and shabbiness ; some few were as hand-
some as can be seen in Hyde Park ; some — truly
Spanish, — were entirely covered over with gild-
ing and painting ; many were like worn-out post
chaises ; and several like the old family pieces
that are yet sometimes to be seen at the church
door on Sunday, in some remote parishes in
England. I observed the most ludicrous in-
congruity between the carriages and the ser-
vants ; many a respectable, and even handsome
carriage might be seen with a servant behind,
like some street vagabond who, seeing a vacant
place, had mounted for the sake of a drive. I
actually saw a tolerably neat carriage driven
by a coachman without stockings ; and another

90 SPAIN IN 1830.

with a rheumatic lacquey behind, whose head
was enveloped in flannel. But let me turn to
the pedestrians.

The Paseo was crowded from end to end, and
from side to side ; so crowded, indeed, that by
mixing with the tide, it was impossible to see
more than one's next neighbour ; and that I
might better observe the elements of the crowd,
I contrived, with some difficulty, to extricate
myself from the stream, and get into the car-
riage drive. Before visiting Spain, I had heard
much of the beauty of Spanish women, — their
graceful figures, — their bewitching eyes, — their
fascinating expression, — in short, their personal
attractions. Whether owing to the representations
of travellers, or the unreal descriptions of poets,
or the romance with which, in the minds of
many, every thing in Spain is invested, — it is
certain, that a belief in the witchery of Spanish
women obtains very general credence in Eng-
land. With curiosity, therefore, considerably
excited, I took up a station to decide upon the
claims of the ladies of Spain. In my expecta-
tions of beauty I was miserably disappointed ;
beauty of features I saw none. Neither at that
time, nor at any subsequent visit to the Prado,

SPAIN IN 1830. 91

did I ever see one strikingly lovely countenance ;

and the class so well known in England, because

so numerous, denominated " pretty girls," has no

existence in Spain. The women were, without

exception, dark, — but the darkness of the clear

brunette, is darkness of a very different kind

from that of the Castilian. I saw no fine skin,

no glossy hair : dark expressive eyes I certainly

did see, but they were generally too ill supported

to produce much effect. But let me do justice

to the grace of the Spanish women. No other

woman knows how to walk, — the elegant, light,

and yet firm step of the small and well attired

foot and ancle, — the graceful bearing of the

head and neck, — the elegant disposition of the

arms, never to be seen hanging downward, but

one hand holding the folds of the mantilla, just

below the waist ; the other inclining upward,

wielding, with an effect the most miraculous,

that mysterious instrument, the fan, — these are

the charms of the Spanish women. As for

the fan, its powers are no where seen displayed

to such advantage as on the Prado. I believe

I shall never be able to look at a fan in the

hands of any other tlian a Spanish woman, —

certainly no other woman understands the

92 SPAIN IN 1830.

management of it. In her hands it is never one
moment at rest, — she throws it open, fans her-
self, furls it to the right, — opens it again, again
fans herself, and furls it to the left, and all with
three fingers of one hand. This is absolutely
marvellous to one who has been accustomed to
see a fan opened with both hands, and furled
only on one side. But that I may at once
exhaust the subject of fans, let me add, that in
the hands of its true mistress, the fan becomes
a substitute for language, and an interpreter of
etiquette. If a lady perceives that she is an
object of attention to some inquisitive and
admiring caballero, she has immediate recourse
to her fan, that she may convey to him one most
important piece of information. If she be
married, she fans herself slowly ; if still seiio-
rita, rapidly. The caballero, therefore, at once
ascertains his chances and his risks. This fact
I obtained from a Spanish lady of rank in
Madrid, the wife of a gentleman in a high offi-
cial situation. The motion of the fan too,
marks distinctly, and with the utmost nicety,
the degree of intimacy that subsists between one
lady and another. The shake of the fan is the
universal acknowledgment of acquaintance; and

SPAIN IN 1830. 93

according as the fan is open or shut, the inti-
macy is great or small. These are trifling things,
yet they are worth telling. But let me return
to the Prado, where, having decided upon the
claims of the Castilian ladies, I had leisure to
observe its other novelties. Here I saw little
of the sombreness I had remarked on the streets,
for many of the ladies wore white mantillas ;
and in the evening, coloured rather than black
gowns are the mode. The very great number,
too, of officers of the guards, with their high
cocked hats, and coats entirely covered with
silver lace, gave additional animation to the
scene., Other pictures of a different kind the
eye occasionally caught, — here and there a
portly priest, with his ample gown and great
slouched hat, mingling in the throng, and evi-
dently enjoying the scene and its gaiety, — -
aloof from the crowd, and in the most retired
walks, with hurried step and downcast head, a
friar, in his grey, brown or white cassock, —
now and then a tall Andalusian peasant, with
his tapering hat, his velvet and silver embroi-
dered jacket and crimson sash, his unbuttoned
gaiters and white stockings, — the Asturian
nurse, with her short brown jerkin, petticoat of

94

SPAIN IN 1830.

blue and yellow, trimmed with gold, and bare
head. It is always a mark of a woman's con-
sequence in Madrid to hire an Asturian nurse ;
they are supposed to be models of health and
strength, and certainly if breadth of figure be
the criterion of these, the ladies of Madrid
make a prudent choice : I never saw such
women as the women of the Asturias. In
France, where the women are generally mmce,
one of them might be exhibited as a curiosity.

There is one very unpleasant thing connected
with a promenade on the Prado, whether in a
carriage or on foot; this is the necessity of pay-
ing honour to every branch of the royal family,
however frequently they may pass along. Every
carriage must stop, and those within must take
off their hats, or if the carriage be open stand up
also ; and every person on foot is expected to
suspend his walk, face-about, and bow, with
his head uncovered. When the king passes, no
one perhaps feels this to be a grievance ; because,
however little respect the king may in reality
be entitled to from his subjects, it is felt to
be nothing more than an act of common good
breeding to take off one's hat to a king ; but I
have fifty times seen all this homage paid to a

SPAIN IN 1830. 95

royal carriage with a nurse and an infant — not
an infanta — in it ; and one evening I was abso-
lutely driven from the Prado by the unceasing
trouble of being obliged to acknowledge the
royal presence every few minutes, the spouse
of the Infante Don Francis having found amuse-
ment in cantering backward and forward during
an hour at least. From the expected homage, no
one is exempt : even the foreign ambassadors
must draw up, rise, and uncover themselves, if
but a sprig of royalty in the remotest degree,
and of the tenderest age, happens to drive past.
Both the British and the American Minister
told me, that for that reason they never went to
the Prado.

The promenade continues long after dark ;
and on fine moonlight nights in the month of
September, 1 have seen it continued without
any diminution in the crowd until after ten
o'clock ; generally, however, when dusk begins
to usher in darkness, and when the great object
of going to the Prado is accomplished, — seeing
and being seen — the crowd thins, and there is
soon no remnant of it visible, excepting pairs,
or single individuals, here and there, who have
their reasons for remaining. In Madrid, — indeed

96 SPAIN IN 1830.

throughout all Spain, nobody walks for pleasure;
at all events no woman : and this fact is I think
sufficient to account for the superiority of the
Spanish women in the art of walking, without
making it necessary for us to suppose any defi-
ciency in elegance of limb or symmetry of form
among the women of other countries. An En-
glishwoman walks for health : she puts on her
bonnet, and a pair of strong shoes, and a shawl,
and walks into the country ; and the nature of
the climate creates a necessity for walking fast ;
there is no one to look at her, and she thinks of
nothing so little as her manner of walking : but
a Spanish woman never walks for health or
exercise ; she never goes out but to go to the
Paseo, and never without having paid the most
scrupulous attention to her toilette. On the
Paseo, she studies every step, because the
object of going there is to be seen and admired,
and the nature of the climate, obliges her to
walk slow.

My evening walk in Madrid was more fre-
quently to the Retiro than to the Prado ; this is
a vast and ill-laid out garden and shrubbery,
three or four miles in circumference, situated
upon an elevation behind the Prado, the en-

SPAIN IN 18.30. 97

trance to which is by the court of the old palace,
which was destroyed during the war. The
Retiro possesses no particular attraction, ex-
cepting its fresh air, and freedom from dust.
There are some elevations in this garden, from
which an extensive prospect is enjoyed ; but it
embraces little that is interesting, excepting the
city, and the skies — an object of no small interest
to one accustomed to the dense atmosphere and
cloudy heavens of a northern latitude. During
the several months that I remained in Madrid,
I scarcely ever saw a cloud ; and I frequently
walked to the Retiro for the sole purpose of
looking at the glorious sky, and the gorgeous
sun-set: such skies are glorious, even when
they canopy a desert. From the Retiro, the eye
ranges over nothing but a desert, bounded on
one side by the Sierra Guadarama, on the other
by the Toledo mountains; and Madrid, standing-
alone in the midst of this treeless and lifeless
plain, seemed, when the setting sun flamed
upon its domes and spires, to have been placed
there by enchantment.

Returning from the Prado, or the Retiro, 1
frequently stepped into the Cafe de Santa Cala-
lina, the most brilliant place of the kind in

VOL. I. H

98 SPAIN IN 1830.

Madrid, and generally resorted to after the
promenade, by many of the most distinguished
persons. I greatly prefer this cafe to any in
Paris ; to any, indeed, that I have seen else-
where. You pass through a magnificent and
brilliantly illuminated room, where those who
love the light are assembled, into an open
court, — open to the skies above, but surrounded
by the backs of lofty buildings ; a covered
arcade runs round the court, dimly lighted by
suspended lamps, to meet the taste of those
who desire a certain quantity of light and no
more. But this light scarcely reaches the
centre of the court, which is illuminated only
by the stars; and here, as well as under the
arcade, tables and chairs are placed for those
who are indifferent about light. All sorts of
refreshments suited to a warm climate, are to
be found in this cafe ; and rows of sweet smell-
ing flowers in pots, add to the luxury of the
place. It may easily be believed, that the Caf^
Catalina is celebrated on other accounts than for
the excellence of the refreshments which it fur-
nishes. In the illuminated room, all is mirth
and gaiety : the ladies, escaped from the mono-
tony, and proprieties, and etiquette of the

SPAIN IN 1830. 99

Prado, give way to their natural liveliness and
wit; and accept, with smiling looks of conscious
merit, and with quick flutterings of the fan, the
proffered courtesies and gallantry of the cabal -
leros who escort them. In the court, the scene
is different : within the arcade, quieter parties
are seated, enjoying a sort of half-seclusion;
while, throughout the centre, are scattered, pairs
in conversation ; and the light of a lamp, as it
occasionally flashes upon their privacy, — reveal-
ing a sparkling eye, and the flutter of a fan, —
interprets its nature. The use of the tokdo or
the bravo, to avenge private wrongs among the
upper ranks, is now comparatively unknown in
Spain ; else I should often have run some risk,
by strolling leisurely through the centre of the
Caf(6 Catalina, that I might get some insight
into the state of Castilian morals.

There is a great paucity of caf(6s in Madrid;
excepting the Cafe de Santa Catalina, and an-
other, the name of which I forget, in the neigh-
bourhood of the Prado, there is only the Fon-
tana de Oro in the Calk de San Geronimo. But it
is not likely that there should be many coffee-
houses in a country where there are no news-

n 2

100 SPAIN IN 1830.

papers. Both in France and in England, the
majority of persons who frequent coffee-houses,
go to read the newspapers ; but in Spain, no
one enters a coffee-room except to sip iced
water. During the forenoon, indeed, the doors
of the caf<6s, excepting the Fontana de Oro, are
generally shut, and nobody is within. An
Englishman, or a Frenchman, who is accus-
tomed to connect with a coffee-room, — half-a-
dozen public journals, — organs of intelligence
and public opinion, upon subjects connected
with his political rights, and with the state of
his country, — is instantly reminded on entering
a Spanish coffee-room, of the degraded political
condition of the country he is in : and the dif-
ference between the enjoyment and the want of
political rights, is forcibly thrust upon him. He
takes up the Gaceta de Madrid, and finds there
a royal ordinance, breathing vengeance against
those who desire to be restored to their homes
and their country ; and whose prayers are for its
happiness. He turns over the leaf, and he finds
another ordinance, declaring that the universi-
ties shall be closed, and education suspended,
during his Majesty's pleasure ; and he then
looks for the comment upon these facts : but

SPAIN IN 1830. 101

he looks ill vain. He sees that his Majesty
and the royal family enjoy good health ; that
the king has appointed a bishop to one cathe-
dral ; and that the bishop has named a canon
to another ; and that the procession of St. Rosalia
will issue from the convent of St. Thomas, pre-
cisely at four o'clock next day ; but he sees not
a syllable about the ordinances that deal out
injustice, or strangle improvement; and he says
within himself, this is the most wonderful
country under the sun; for here, intellect wields
no power.

Before dismissing the Paseos of Madrid, I
must notice the Botanical Garden ; not much
used as a Paseo, but certainly the most charming
of them all. While I remained in Madrid,
waiting until the heats had so far subsided as
to allow me to journey into Andalusia, I gene-
rally walked there during an hour or two after
breakfast, having access to it at all times,
through the interest of a friend. The garden
is very extensive; the trees are full-grown; and
there is a charming variety of rare and beau-
tiful plants. The garden, although not by any
means neglected, is not in such ])erfect order,
or under such excellent manauemcnt as it was

102 SPAIN IN 1830.

during the time of the constitution : it was
then under the direction of *S*'^" La Gasca,
Professor of Botany, and a Member of the
Cortes; now a resident in England, where I be-
lieve his learning is appreciated as it deserves.
There is a curious and very unmeaning regu-
lation, connected with the entree of this garden.
Every lady, on entering, must throw aside her
mantilla, and walk with the head uncovered ;
she is not even allowed to drop it upon her
neck ; it must be carried upon the arm. This
regulation is almost an order of exclusion to
a Spanish woman, who considers the proper
arrangement of the mantilla no trifling or easy
matter, and not to be accomplished without
the aid of a mirror ; it is rarely, therefore, that
a Spanish woman subjects herself to a regu-
lation by which she runs the risk of after-
wards appearing on the Paseo with her mantilla
awry.

The only occasion upon which a Spaniard
absents himself from the Paseo, is when he goes
to the theatre. The inhabitants of Madrid are
a theatre-going population; but their propensi-
ties that way are sadly cramped for want of
room ; if, however, the theatre now erecting

SPAIN IN 1830. 103

in the neighbourhood of the palace be ever
finished — a point certainly doubtful, since the
palace itself makes no progress towards com-
pletion — half Madrid will find accommodation
in it, and have the honour of being seated in
the largest theatre in Europe. I should pro-
bably not have visited the theatre so soon, if
the road from my lodgings to the Calle de Alcala
had not led me daily past the theatre, where I
generally stopped a moment to read " the bills
of the play." These, as in the olden times in
England, set forth the merits of the play, —
narrate a few of the principal events, — tell how,
in one act, there is a most witty dialogue, —
and how, in another, there is a scene which
must delight every body; and conclude with
some eulogy upon the genius of the writer.
The first visit I made to the theatre was to wit-
ness the representation of a comedy by Solisy to
be acted in the Teatro del Principe. I walked in
and took my seat without any one asking for
my ticket, which is not demanded until the
play is nearly concluded ; so that a lover of the
theatre, who might be scarce of money, might
gratify his appetite for nothing.

The Teatro del Principe is miserably small for

104 SPAIN IN 1830.

a metropolitan theatre : it will contain no more
than 1500 persons ; but it is light and pretty,
painted in white and gold, and round the ceiling
are the busts of the principal Spanish poets, dra-
matists and novelists, their names being inscribed
under each. The six in front are no doubt
intended to occupy the most honourable places :
they are Calderon, Lopez de Vega, Cervantes,
Garcilaso, Ercillo, and Tirso. Calderon and
Lopez are placed in the front, w^here I think
Cervantes ought to have been. The house was
well filled ; the ladies generally wore mantil-
las, but some were in full dress; and a few had
ventured upon French hats. There is one pe-
culiarity in the Spanish theatres, which seems
at first sight, inconsistent with the state of
society and manners. Excepting the private
boxes, there is scarcely any place to which a
lady and a gentleman can go in company. In
Madrid the only places of this description will
not contain thirty persons ; but, on the other
hand, an ample provision is made for ladies.
The greater part of the space occupied by the
first tier of boxes in the English theatres, is
thrown into one space, called the cazuela; and
here, ladies, and only ladies, have the right of

SPAIN IN 1830. 105

entree. The most respectable women go to the
cazuela, and sit there unattended; nor is this
arrangement unfavourable to intrigue. The
entree to the cazuela secures the entree of the
whole house ; and between the acts the cazuela
is almost deserted, some having gone to visit
persons in the boxes, but the greater number
getting no farther than the lobby, where it is
not unusual to meet a friend ; and when
the comedy ends, every lady finds an escort
ready. It is a fact too, that if the cazuela be
crowded during the first act, there is generally
room enough during the second, and more than
enough during the third. This needs no expla-
nation.

I saw only one really beautiful countenance
in the theatre ; but there were some expressive
faces, and inexpressibly fine eyes, almost
worthy of a serenade. Here, the fan seemed a
most indispensible companion ; for besides its
common uses, it exercised the powers of a
critic, expressing approbation or dislike ; and
between the acts, it proved itself a powerful
auxiliary to the language of the eyes.

The play, like most of the Spanish comedies,
was a piece of intrigue, plot within plot, and

106 SPAIN IN 1830.

abounding in strange situations, and innumer-
able perplexities and difficulties, scarcely to be
comprehended by a spectator unless possessing
a previous knowledge of the piece ; and to be
thoroughly enjoyed by a Spaniard only. The
acting was spirited, the dresses characteristic,
and the orchestra not contemptible ; and the
satisfaction of the audience was shewn in im-
moderate bursts of laughter.

The play being ended, the next part of the
entertainment consisted in the Bolero. This is
danced by two persons ; the man, in the dress
of an Andalusian peasant — for to Andalusia the
dance properly belongs— with dark embroidered
jacket, short white embroidered waistcoat, crim-
son sash, white tight small clothes, white
stockings, and the hair in a black silk knot ;
his partner in a gaudy dress of red, embroi-
dered with gold. These are nothing more than
the usual holiday-dresses of the Andalusian
peasantry. The dance itself, is a quick minuet ;
advancing, retiring, and turning; the feet all
the time performing a step, and the hands
occupied with the castanets. I had heard much
of the indelicacy of the Bolero, but I could find
nothing in it in the slightest degree indecorous.

SPAIN IN 1830, 107

The dance is long, at least it is often repeated ;
three or four times the dancing ceases, the
music continuing, and the dancers standing
opposite to each other ; and after a short interval,
the entertainment is resumed.

At this theatre, and at the Teatro de la Cruz,
Italian operas are performed twice a week ;
sometimes at the one theatre, and sometimes at
the other ; a very bad arrangement, because it
forces the lover of Italian music to have a box
in both houses ; and after all, one is apt to
make a mistake as to the house in which the
opera is performed. The Italian opera is a
losing concern in Madrid ; the prices are too
low, and the house is not large enough to ensure
a return. The star, when I was in Madrid, was
a Signora To-si, who received no less than 1 ,200/.
sterling to perform three nights a week for five
months. This Signora Tossi was a remarkable
favourite in Madrid ; she performed in an opera
which had been written expressly for her; and
when this opera was announced, the house
would have been filled even if it had been three
times larger. Nothing could gain admittance
but bribery ; if one inquired for a ticket, the
answer invariably was, that all were sold : but

108 SPAIN IN 1830.

if one chose to add, '* I would give a handsome
gratuity for a ticket," a ticket was produced,
and an additional dollar given for it. Upon this
occasion the corregidor of Madrid pocketed as
many as 40 or 50 dollars a day by trafficking in
tickets ; he bought 40 or 50 tickets before the
theatre opened, and sold them during the day
at different prices, according to the demand.
So great was the rage for the opera, and so
great the dearth of tickets, that the most dis-
graceful means were resorted to in order to gain
admittance : one evening I myself saw two per-
sons detected with forged tickets. The excel-
lence of the Opera of Madrid last season, almost
excused the madness, — not the meanness of the
public. Tossi, I thought a great singer : she
resembles Catalini more nearly than any one I
have ever heard ; but she possesses more sweet-
ness and melody of tone ; and is a better actress,
and a finer woman than Catalini ever was. The
other vocal parts were well supported, and the
orchestra, with a hint and a rebuke now and then
from Tossi, acquitted itself well. The prices of
the theatres in Madrid are as moderate as the
poorest amateur could desire; the best places in
the house are to be had for 2s. Qd., and very

SPAIN IN 1830. 109

excellent seats cost but Is. 3(1. ; the public
benches in the pit are only 10^/.

The existence of a good Italian opera in
Madrid, and the easy access to it, have no doubt
had some eifect in fostering a taste for music,
especially Italian music. Spain, with all its
sins, has not to answer for the sin of neglecting
the fine arts. There are at this moment four
Italian operas in Spain : in Madrid, — in Malaga,
in Granada, and in Barcellona ; and this is
fewer than usual ; for Cadiz and Seville can also
generally boast of an Italian company ; and
wherever there is an operatic company, there is
also a company of comedians. I shall have
occasion afterwards, to notice the operas of
Malaga, Granada, and Barcellona ; at present I
confine myself to Madrid. There, music is
universally cultivated; and it is rare to find a
Spanish woman, even in the middle ranks, who
is not a good pianist. The music of Rossini, set
to the piano, is the most in vogue ; but the
German masters also are known to many, — and
justice is done to them. That instrument so
interwoven with our ideas of Spain — the guitar,
is now little cultivated in Castile by the higher
or middle ranks ; it is in the southern provinces,

110 SPAIN IN 1830.

and in some of the more retired Spanish towns,
such as Toledo, that the guitar still maintains
its power, and exercises its witcheries. In
Madrid too, in the evening, the lower orders are
frequently seen sitting at their doors thrumming
their guitars ; and I have more than once observed
a soldier sitting before the guard-house with his
guitar, while his comrades sat on the ground
listening, and joining in the chorus. If the
ladies of Madrid know how to play the guitar,
they refrain from displaying their knowledge.
The piano is their instrument, and they do it
justice. In vocal music, the ladies of Madrid
are not proficients ; there is a want of melody
in their voices which forbids excellence. This
roughness in the voices of the Spanish women,
forcibly strikes a stranger upon his first entrance
into Spanish society, and is felt to be disagree-
able even in conversation : of its effect in vocal
performance, one has rarely an opportunity of
judging.

In Madrid, Spanish music is not much culti-
vated, — this is a pity ; for although it knows
neither operatic performances, nor any composi-
tions of a sustained character, it owns many
beautiful and original airs, well worthy of being

SPAIN IN 1830. 1 1 I

preserved. A collection of these has lately,
I believe, been published in England, accom-
panied with some charming poetry, from the
pens of Mrs. Hemans and Dr. Bowring. —
These are to be heard in the theatres, and
occasionally in the mouths of the lower orders.
If a lady be requested to play a Spanish
air, she will comply ; but otherwise, she will
always prefer Italian music.

CHAPTER IV.

MADRID.

The King, Queen, and Roj^al Family; Personal Appearance of
Ferdinand ; a Royal Jeu cVesprit ; the King's Confidence in
the People, and Examples ; Character of the King ; a Carlist's
Opinion of the King; Favourites, — Calomarde, — Alegon, —
Salsedo, — the Duque d'Higar ; rising Influence of the Queen ;
Habits of the Royal Family ; Court Diversions ; Rivalry of
Don Carlos ; the Queen's Accouchement, and Views of Parties;
Detection of a Carlist Plot ; the Salic Law ; Court Society ;
Persons of Distinction, and Ministerial Tertulias ; Habits and
Manner of Life of the Middle Classes ; a Spanish House, and its
singular Defences ; Abstemiousness of the Spaniards; Evening
and Morning Visits ; Balls and Spanish Dancing ; Character
of Spanish Hospitality ; Spanish Generosity and its origin ;
Examples of Ostentation ; Morals ; Gallantry and Intrigue ;
the Morals of the Lower Orders ; Religious Opinions in the
Capital, and decline of Priestly Influence ; Jesuitical Educa-
tion ; the Influence of the Friars ; Causes of the decline of
Priestly influence, and the continuance of that of the Friars ;
Convent Secrets ; curious Expose at Cadiz ; Devotion in
Madrid.

There is perhaps no European Court about
which so little is known, as the Court of
Madrid, — nor any European sovereign whose

SPAIN IN 1830. 1 13

character and habits are so little familiar to
us, as those of Ferdinand VII. The first time
I saw the king, was on the day of my arrival
in Madrid : he was expected to return from
St. Ildefonso, and I mixed with the crowd in
the palace-yard about an hour before he
appeared. There were several thousand per-
sons present, of all ranks, and his Majesty
was received with respect, but with no
audible demonstrations of welcome. Upon
this occasion, 1 was not sufficiently near to
observe the countenance and demeanour of
the king.

The next time I saw his majesty, was on
the Prado, the Sunday following, when he
appeared in his state equipage, followed by
the equipages of the two Infantes. The dis-
play was regal : his majesty's carriage was
M'orthy of a more powerful monarch : it was
drawn by eight handsome horses^ elegantly
caparisoned, and was followed by the two
carriages of Don Carlos and Don Francis,
and by that of the Princess of Portugal, each
drawn by six horses ; and the cavalcade ^ras
attended by a numerous party of huzzars.

VOL. I. J

114 SPAIN IN 1830.

There were no other persons than their
Majesties in the royal carriage. The king
was dressed in military uniform, and his
royal consort wore a pink French crape hat,
and printed muslin gown. When the royal
cavalcade passed, the king was received with
the usual silent tokens of respect ; but when
the carriage of the infante Don Carlos
appeared, I could distinguish a few vivas.
The king took scarcely any notice of the
obeisances of his subjects; but the queen
seemed anxious to conciliate their favour by
many sweet smiles and affable bendings of
the head. As for Don Carlos, none of the
vivas were lost upon him : he had a bow and
a grim smile for every one. It is said, and
I believe with truth, that the king does not
like this public competition with his brother
for popular favour; but it has long been the
invariable custom for all the branches of
the royal family of Spain, to attend prayers
every Sunday evening in the royal chajDcl
in the convent of San Geronimo, and afterwards
to drive along the Prado.

A few days afterwards I met the king and
queen in the Retire, on foot ; they had been

SPAIN IN 1S30. 115

viewing the menagerie, and were returning to
their carriage. Ferdinand VII. king of Spain,
is like a lusty country gentleman, not the
meagre figure he appears in Madame Tassaud's
exhibition ; he is large, almost to the extent
i of corpulency ; his countenance is fat and

heavy; but good natured, with nothing of
hauteu7\ still less of ferocity in it : it betrays,
in fact, a total want of character of any kind.
The queen is a remarkably pleasing, and,
indeed, a remarkable pretty woman ; and the
charm of affability, which is universally grant-
ed to her by those who have had the honour
to approach her person, shines conspicuously
in her countenance : she looks like 28 years
of age, but I believe she is some years
younger. The king took little notice of the
people who stood by, and who acknowledged
the royal presence; but the queen bestowed
upon them her usual smiles and curtesies.
She was then an object of much interest with
the public, for she was expected shortly to
give birth to an heir to the Spanish throne ;
and to this event, most thinking persons
looked forward, as one that must produce
I 2

116 SPAIN IN 1830.

an important influence upon the future con-
dition of Spain. His majesty stepped into
the carriage first, leaving the queen to the
gallantry of an old general, who was their
only attendant, — perhaps this is Spanish court
etiquette : but that I may not be the means
of fixing upon his majesty the character of
an ungallant monarch, I must relate a cir-
cumstance that will certainly make amends
for this seemingly ungracious act.

I happened to be walking one day in the
Calle de Alcala, when the royal carriage drove
up to the door of the Cabinet of Natural History,
and being close by, I stopped to see the king
and queen. The king stepped from the carriage
first; he then lifted from the carriage, a very
large poodle dog, and then the queen followed,
whom, contrary no doubt to royal etiquette, his
majesty did not hand, but lifted, and placed on
the pavement; and then turning to the crowd
who surrounded the carriage, he said to them
"Pesa menos el matriomoni," which means. Ma-
trimony is a lighter burden than the dog, — a
very tolerable jeu d'espiit to have come from
Ferdinand VH.

It is a general belief in England, that the

SPAIN IN 1830. 117

king of Spain seldom trusts himself out of his
palace ; at all events, not without a formid-
able guard : but this idea is quite erroneous ;
no monarch in Europe is oftener seen with-
out guards than the king of Spain. I could
give numerous instances of this, which have
fallen under my own observation ; but I shall
content myself with one. A few days before
leaving Madrid, while walking in the Retiro
about six in the evening, in one of the most
private walks, I observed a lusty gentleman,
in blue coat and drab trowsers, with one
companion, about twenty paces in advance;
and, as ray pace was rather quicker than
their's, I caught a side look of the lusty
gentleman's face : it was the king, accompa-
nied by a new valet, who had just succeeded
Meris, who died a week or two before, of
apoplexy. I had frequently seen the king
without guards ; but never before, at so great
a distance from attendants, or in so retired
a place ; and that I might be (juite certain
that this was indeed the redoubtable Fer-
dinand, I followed, in place of passing. He
walked the whole lengtli of the Retiro, parts
of which are more than a mile from any guard

118 SPAIN IN 1830.

or gate ; the garden is open to every body ;
some of the walks are extremely secluded ; so
that he was the whole of the time, entirely in
the power of any individual who might have
harboured a design against him ; and all
this struck me the more forcibly since, upon
that very day, it had been announced for the
first time in the Gaceta de Madrid, that the
refugees had passed the frontier; and in the
same paper the ordinance had appeared, for
closing the universities. The king walked
like a man who had nothing to fear; and never
once looked behind him, though his com-
panion occasionally did. Before making the
circuit of the Retiro, he reached the frequented
walks, which were then crowded, and where
he was of course recognized, and received as
usual. This exposure of himself seemed to me
extraordinary, and scarcely to be accounted
for : the best of kings have occasionally
suffered by their temerity ; and surely Fer-
dinand can have no right to suppose himself
without an enemy : his conduct shewed either
a very good, or a very hardened conscience.

But, in truth, the king has not many
enemies; many despise him, but few would

SPAIN IN 1830. 119

injure him. I have heard men of all parties,
— the warmest Carlists, the most decided
liberals, speak of him without reserve ; and
all speak of him as a man whose greatest
fault is want of character ; as a man not
naturally bad ; good tempered ; and who
might do better, were he better advised.
An honest adviser, a lover of his monarch,
and a lover of his country, Ferdinand has
never had the good fortune to possess ; but,
counselled always by men who desire only
to enrich themselves, and to maintain their
power, he is constantly led to commit acts
both of injustice and despotism, which have
earned for him the character of tyrant. A
despicable king might often make a respect-
able private gentleman. That capital failing
in the character of an absolute king, which
may be called want of character, — leading
him to listen to every tale that is told,— is the
fruitful source of injustice in every depart-
ment of the Spanish government. And the
same fault that in a king, leads to the advance-
ment of knaves, and the neglect of deserving
men — to robbery of the nation, and the ill-
serving of the state, would, in a private sphere,

120 SPAIN IN 1830.

only lead to the dismissal of a footman, or the
change of a fruiterer. I am acquainted with
a Colonel in the Spanish service, who, after
serving his country fifteen years, and receiv-
ing seventeen wounds, was rewarded with the
government of an important fortress ; two
months after being appointed to this employ-
ment he lost it; and a distant connexion of
the mistress of one of the ministers, was put
in his place. The colonel demanded, and
obtained an audience of the king ; shewed
his wounds, and asked what crime he had
committed : the king said he must inquire
of Salmon, who had told something to his
disadvantage; and this was all the satisfac-
tion he ever obtained. This man, a brave
officer, and a loyal subject, was converted
into a disaffected person ; and yet even he,
although then leagued with the Carlists, spoke
of the king as a man who would act better
if he were better advised : " Leave him,"
said he, "the name of king; let him per-
ceive no difference in the externals of roy-
alty ; leave him his secretaries and valets ;
give him his segar ; and let him have his
wife's apartments at hand ; and he would con-

SPAIN IN 1830. 121

sent to any change that might be proposed to
him by an honest and able minister." A bad
education has produced its worst effects upon
a naturally irresolute and rather weak mind.
Ferdinand was badly brought up, by his
mother ; at an early age he was shamefully
kidnapped by Napoleon, and long kept a
prisoner, where he could learn nothing of the
art of good government. He afterwards fell
into the hands of a bigot, his late wife: and
constantly assured by those around him of the
precariousness of his throne, with the liberals
on one side, and the apostolicals on the other,
he has felt the impossibility of acting for him-
self; and has confided all, to those who have
undertaken to keep the state vessel afloat.

The man who has most the ear of the king,
is Don Francisco Tudeo Calomarde, minister of
justice, as he is called in Spain. The private
opinions of Calomarde, are decidedly aposto-
lical ; but the opinions of his colleagues being
more moderate, he is obliged to conceal his
sentiments, and to pretend an accordance with
theirs. The ministers who are reputed to be
moderate in sentiment are Don Luis Ballas-
teros, minister of finance ; Don Luis Maria

122 SPAIN IN 1830.

Salagar, minister of marine, and generally
considered the most able in the cabinet ; and
Don Manuel Gonsalez Salmon, secretary of
state, and nominally prime minister. This
minister, for several years, held only the office
of interim secretary of state ; because, as was
generally believed, etiquette forcing the king
to take the prime minister along with him to
his country palace, the advancement of Sal-
mon would have deprived Calomarde of this
privilege : lately, however, Salmon has been
named secretary of state without reserve, pro-
bably because he would not serve upon other
conditions ; or, according to another version,
because he threatened Calomarde with some
e.vposk if he opposed his advancement.

Calomarde, unquestionably no fool, is un-
derstood to keep all together ; the minister of
the marine is the only other man of talent, and
he is a new man, possessing little influence,
and who could not, for a moment, support
himself against Calomarde ; he was only a
few months ago presented with the rank of
general, that etiquette might enable him to
hold some office with which the king wished
to reward his services.

SPAIN IN 1830. 123

But Calomarde had not the king's un-
divided ear; and, if report speak truly, he
has tale-telling and cabal to encounter, as
well as those in inferior stations. There are
other two individuals who, without high state
offices, possess great private influence, and are
generally looked upon in the light of favourites.
These are the Duque de Alegon and Salsedo.
The former was appointed last autumn to the
office of captain-general of the guard ; an
office that keeps him much about the king's
person. This Alegon is a dissipated old man,
long known to the king, and who used, in
former days, to pander to his pleasures ; the
king has never forgotten the convenient friend
of his younger days, and has now thought of
rewarding him. The services of the Duque
de Alegon refer to many years back. Before
the king wedded his bigot wife, not affection,
but religious fear kept him faithful during
that connexion ; and now, the love he bestows
upon the young queen, entirely supersedes
any call upon the services of Alegon.

The other individual, who is justly con-
sidered the royal favourite, par excellence, is
Salsedo, who holds the office of private secre-

124 SPAIN IN 1830.

tary. A dishonourable link formerly bound
him to his sovereign, and he still retains his
influence. It is generally known, that pre-
vious to the marriage of the king with his
present wife, the wife of Salsedo was in royal
favour. Salsedo is decidedly a man of good
tact, if not of talent ; his having retained his
post fourteen years is some proof of both . His
principles are understood to be moderate ; at
all events his advice is so, for he has sense to
perceive that an opposite policy would pro-
bably accelerate the ruin of both his master
and himself. Salsedo possesses more in-
fluence in the closet than Calomarde, — the
king likes him better, and confides in him
more. The influence of Calomarde is not
favouritism ; the king looks to his opinion,
because he trusts to his knowledge. There
are still one or two others who have some-
thing to say at court, particularly the Duque
d'Higar, the best man of the Camarilla, and a
man both of talent and information : but the
influence of the Duque d'Higar is not great.
The favourite valet de chambre, who died of
apoplexy some months ago, was also fast creep-
ing on towards high favour ; and his death has

SPAIN IN 1830. 125

thrown more influence into the hands of Sal-
sedo.

But it is now generally supposed, that the
rising influence of the queen will in due time
discard every other influence about court.
No king and queen ever lived more happily
together, than the present king and queen of
Spain. The king is passionately attached to
her; and it is said she is perfectly satisfied
with her lot. He spends the greater part of
the day in her apartments ; and when engaged
in council, leaves it half a dozen times in the
course of an hour or two, to visit his queen.
The habits of the court are extremely simple :
the king rises at six, and breakfasts at seven ;
he spends the morning chiefly with the queen,
but receives his ministers and secretary at any
time before two ; at half-past two he dines,
always in company with the queen. Dinner
occupies not more than an hour; and shortly
after, he and the queen drive out together: he
sups at half-past eight, and retires early. The
queen does not rise so early as the king ; she
breakfasts at nine; and the king always sits
by her. There is scarcely any gaiety at court.
The queen is fond of retirement ; and excepting

126 SPAIN IN 1830.

now and then a private concert, there are no
court diversions.

While I vv^as in Madrid, the favourite pas-
time of the king and queen was of rather an
extraordinary kind ; especially as the queen
was on the eve of her accouchement. It con-
sisted in looking at the wild beasts, which are
kept in the Retiro. Almost every evening
about five o'clock, the royal carriage might be
seen crossing the Prado, on its way towards
the menagerie ; and as the Retiro was generally
my afternoon lounge, I had frequent oppor-
tunities of seeing this royal diversion. There
is a large square court about 200 yards across,
inclosed with iron railings, and round the in-
terior of this court, are the cages of the wild
animals; and in this court, sat the king and
queen upon a bench, while the animals were
turned out for their amusement, — such of them
at least as were peaceable, — camels, elephants,
zebras, &c. &c. The keepers mounted upon
the backs of the animals, and made them trot
round the area ; and when this had been done
often enough to please their majesties, the beasts
were led in front of their royal visitors, and
made to kneel, — which act of homage however

SPAIN IN 1830. 127

they sometimes refused to perform. Upon one
occasion, the man who rode the camel, not
being able to keep his seat, turned his face
towards the tail, sitting upon the neck of the
animal ; their majesties were in ecstasies at
this exhibition ; the king, I thought, would
have died with laughing.

T was witness, another time, to a strange
scene of rivalry between the king and Don
Carlos. When the king's carriage drove up to
the gate of the court, Don Carlos and his wife
and family were seated in the area, and his
carriage was in waiting : upon this occasion,
the king arrived in state ; a party of dragoons
attended him, and his coachmen were in court
dresses. The carriage of Don Carlos was in
strange contrast with that of the king ; it was
drawn by six mules, harnessed with ropes ; in
place of postilions in court dresses, his servants
were in the dress of Spanish peasants in their
holiday clothes, — one on the coach-box, — the
other employed as a runner by the head of the
mules. Don Carlos affects all this appearance
of simplicity and Spanish usage, to please the
people ; and for the same reason, his wife
generally appears in a mantilla. The moment

128 SPAIN IN 1830.

the king's carriage appeared, Don Carlos left
the court with his wife, and continued to walk
in the most crowded part of the garden while
the king and queen remained, dividing the
attention which their majesties would other-
wise have received, and indeed engrossing the
larger share of it. I could not avoid remarking
the greater popularity of Don Carlos among
the lower orders : while they only took off
their hats as the king passed, they bowed
almost to the ground at the presence of the
Infante. The appearance of the queen, how-
ever, always produced a favourable impres-
sion, especially when contrasted with that
of her aspiring rival. One cannot look at
the spouse of Don Carlos, without perceiving
that she covets a crown; while in the coun-
tenance of the queen, we read indifference
to it.

Upon frequent other occasions while in
Madrid, I had proofs of the anxiety of Don
Carlos to recommend himself to the people.
The most marked of these, was upon the
evening when the queen gave birth to a prin-
cess : not an hour after this was known, the
Infante drove through the streets and along

SPAIN IN 1830. 129

the Prado, in an open carriage, along with
his three sons, who, by the repeal of the
Salic law, were that day cut out of their in-
heritance.

The event to which I have alluded, — the
accouchement of the queen — was a matter
of deep interest in Madrid ; and before its
accomplishment there was the utmost anxiety
among all ranks. Each party had its own
views. The moderate, or government party,
and many belonging to the other parties,
who desired peace and tranquillity, anxiously
looked to the birth of a prince, as an event
that would at once extinguish the claims of
those who, but for the repeal of the Salic
law, would have had a right to the throne,
in case of the birth of a princess. The Car-
lists secretly wished that the event might
be precisely the opposite ; and the liberal
party, seeing some possible advantage in
whatever should tend to unsettle the existing
government, united their wishes with those
of the Carlists : but, the great majority of
the respectable inhabitants, perceiving in the
birth of a prince, a guarantee for the tran-
quillity of the kingdom, and the security of

VOL. I. K

130 SPAIN IN 1830.

property, devoutly wished that such might
be the event.

The anxiety that filled the public mind,
was fully partaken by the government; for
it was well known to the heads of the state,
that conspiracies were on foot ; and that, in
the event of the birth of a princess, the Car-
lists would have a pretext for an open mani-
festation of their views. They, however, had
resolved not to wait this event, but to anti-
cipate it ; and a plot, which might possibly
have proved successful, and which, at all
events, must have led to scenes of blood,
perhaps to revolution, was fortunately dis-
covered on the day before that appointed
for its execution ; and the most prompt mea-
sures were immediately taken for crushing
it. On the fifth of October, about midnight,
carriages, accompanied by sufficient escorts,
were taken to the houses of Padre Cirilo,
the chief of the Franciscan order of friars ;
of Don Rufino Gonsalez : of Don Man.
Herro, both Counsellors of State, and of
thirteen others ; the conspirators were put
into the carriages, and driven off, — Cirilo to
Seville ; Rufino to La Mancha, and the others

SPAIN IN 1830. 131

to different places distant from the metropolis.
The conspirators intended that some of the
heads should have repaired to the inner court
of the palace while the king was engaged in
his evening drive ; that about a thousand of
the royalist volunteers — who are for the most
part Carlists — should assemble at the palace
yard ; that the entrance to the palace should
be taken possession of;' the king seized upon
his return, and forced to change his ministers,
and to restore the Salic law. I feel little
doubt, that if this plot had not been dis-
covered, it would have led to more than a
change of ministers. Among the military,
and even among the guards, there are many
discontented men, who fancy they see in the
elevation of Don Carlos, a guarantee for a
more impartial system of promotion ; and the
royalist volunteers of Madrid, 6000 strong,
and all provided with arms, and accustomed
to manoeuvre them, are, with few exceptions
of the lowest classes, and chiefly Carlists.

I walked to the palace yard the evening
when it was expected the event would be
known : it presented a dense mass of persons,
iv 2

132 SPAIN IN 1830.

chiefly of bourgeois and of the middle classes,
all waiting with anxiety the announcement of
the event, upon which the tranquillity of the
country so greatly depended. At length the
white flag — the announcement of a princess —
was slowly hoisted. There was a universal
and audible expression of disappointment :
''Que lastima! que lastima T and the crowd
slowly dispersed.

The repeal of the Salic law was not in
itself an unpopular measure; and had there
been no claimants to the crown under the
old law, or no party to take advantage of
disunion, and support these claims, it would
have been a matter of indiflerence to the peo-
ple, whether the queen gave birth to a son or
a daughter : the repeal of the Salic law was
only the revival of the ancient law of Castile,
andjoer se, gave no dissatisfaction. It was the
peculiar circumstances in which the country
was placed, and the state of parties, that
rendered the birth of a prince or a princess
a matter of importance : the event created
much disappointment to the government party,
but no discontent : it is well known that the
Constitutionalists on the frontier had trusted

SPAIN IN 1830. 133

to the latter, and hoped to profit by it: but
the effect was rather against than favour-
able to that party; because the Carlists, seeing
their own ultimate chances increased, were
therefore more interested in assisting govern-
ment to suppress the Constitutionalists, whose
ascendancy would leave them no hope. — But
to return to the court.

There is nothing of court society at Madrid :
the secluded habits of the king and queen,
I have spoken of already; and there is scarcely
any visiting among the courtiers. The persons
of distinction in Madrid lead a most mono-
tonous life: one lady only, the Duchess of
Benevente, opens her house once a week, —
this is on Sunday evening, and she receives,
among others, those of the foreign ministers
who choose to visit her. Her parties, how-
ever, are far from being agreeable : the Spa-
niards of distinction who frequent her tertulia,
generally withdraw when the foreign ministers
are announced. This disinclination on the
part of the Spanish grandees, and others
holding high court preferment, to associate
with the foreign ambassadors, is notorious in
Madrid. At the tertulia, of the wife of Don

134 SPAIN IN 1830.

Manuel Gonsalez Salmon, the foreign ministers
used formerly to be present, but they dis-
covered that they were regarded in a light
little different from that of spies ; and they
are now never seen at these tertulias. In
Madrid there are no ministerial, no diplomatic
dinners ; and among the persons of most
distinction, entertainments are extremely rare.
There is, in fact, nothing like gaiety among
the upper ranks in the Spanish metropolis.
And yet, if you remark to a Spanish lady that
there is little society among the higher classes
in Madrid, she will express the utmost astonish-
ment that you should have imbibed so false a
notion of Madrid and its society ; but her
idea of society and yours differ widely. If a
dozen houses are open, into which a Spanish
lady may go when she pleases, sit down on
the sofa with her friend, fan herself, and talk
till she is tired ; this she considers society, —
and this is the only form of society to be found
among the highest classes in Madrid, — gaiety
there is none.

Previous to travelling into Spain, I had
heard much of the difficulty, if not impossi-
bility, of obtaining access to Spanish society ;

SPAIN IN 1830. 135

and before I had the means of judging for
myself, I received frequent corroboration of
this opinion. One of his majesty's consuls,
whom I accidentally met in the Pyrenees, and
whose appointment lies in the largest city of
Spain, next to Madrid ; a man too, who, both
by his rank, for he is the nephew of a peer,
and by the affability of his manners, Avould
be likely to be every where well received,
told me that I should probably leave Spain
with no greater knowledge of Spanish society
than when I entered it ; that it was more than
probable I should never see the inside of a
Spanish house : and he concluded by saying,
that he had been four years in Spain, and
actually did not know if the Spaniards dined off
a table doth. This was rather disheartening:
and when I waited upon the British minister
upon my arrival in Madrid, 1 received from
him no greater encouragement. He told
me that Spanish houses were closed against
foreigners; and that, for his own part, he
knew nobody, and visited no where.

I am not able to reconcile these opinions,
and the experience of others, with my own ;
my advantages, considerable as they certainly

136 SPAIN IN 1830.

were, could not be compared with those of the
accredited representatives of government, who
had resided many years in the country. It is
a fact, however, that I had not been many
days in Madrid, before I had the entr6e of
several Spanish houses, both in the higher and
in the middle classes of society : this good
fortune I may partly attribute to my intimacy
with an attache of the Spanish embassy in
London, who, grateful for the attentions he
had received from my countrymen, repaid
them in the manner most acceptable to me, — -
namely, by making me acquainted with a
numerous circle of friends and relatives. His
father, a member of the council of state,
may easily be supposed to have possessed the
power of assisting the inquiries of a traveller;
and to him, and to my young friend, now
secretary to one of the legations in Italy, I
have to return my best thanks for a hundred
civilities.

It is the habits of the middle classes, that
best interpret the condition and character of a
people ; and to these I mean at present to con-
fine myself. I shall begin by giving the reader
some idea of the interior of a Spanish house ;

SPAIN IN 1830. 137

but let me premise, that the houses in the
different cities of Spain, bear scarcely any
resemblance to each other : the houses of
Madrid differ in almost every thing from
those of Seville, — w^hich, again, are in many
respects different from the houses in Malaga
and Valencia. These distinctions are suffi-
cient to excuse a detail so apparently trifling,
as the description of a house ; because they
arise from a distinction in the manners and
habits of the people inhabiting the different
provinces of Spain.

In Madrid, the whole of the middle classes,
and, indeed, all excepting the very highest
ranks, live in stories, or flats, as they are
called in Scotland, — each story being a dis-
tinct house. The outer door of every house
in Madrid is of an enormous strength, more
like the door of a prison, or of a convent,
than of a private dwelling house ; and m
the centre, there is a small window, about
six inches long by two broad, grated with
iron, and with a sliding shutter. When one
rings at the door of a Spanish house, the
answer to the bell is a voice, which calls
out " Quien es ?" — who is it ? or who comes ?

138 SPAIN IN 1830.

and the person wishing to be admitted, must
answer " Gente de paz,"' — literally, People
peace. But this assertion does not content
the person within, who then shoves aside the
shutter and peeps through ; and the usual
colloquy is carried on through the grating,
before the door be thrown open, unless the per-
son without, be known to the servant within.
One cannot help endeavouring to account for
the origin of so singular a custom ; and
perhaps the truest guess that can be made, is,
to refer it to the suspicion, and feeling of per-
sonal insecurity, which are the offspring of bad
government, of political persecution, and re-
ligious inquisition. The window shutters of
the houses are as massive as the doors ; and
the glass of the windows is purposely so bad,
that it is impossible to see into a house from
the opposite side of a street: three panes,
however, are always of good glass, so that
one may be able to see out.

The house which I select for a descrip-
tion of its interior, as a fair sample of the
dwelling-houses of the middle classes in
Madrid, belonged to a gentleman holding a
government appointment of 50,000 reals (500/.)

SPAIN IN 1830. 139

per annum ; which may be equal to about
700/. a-year in London : and, with very few
variations, this house may be taken as an
average specimen of the houses of profes-
sional men, employees, and independent per-
sons, of from 500/. to 1,000/. per annum.
The principal room, answering to the English
drawing-room, is large, and well-lighted ; a
handsome straw matting, worked in a pat-
tern of coloured flowers, and which looks
quite as pretty as a carpet, entirely covers
the floor, which is generally of brick. There
is no fire-place in the room ; the walls and
roof are both what is called stained, and this
is as well executed as I have ever seen it
in England ; and the furniture of the room
consists of a large mahogany sofa, with hair
cushion, covered with flowered black satin ;
mahogany chairs, with green and straw-
coloured basket-seats ; four small mahogany
tables, of good material, and prettily carved,
and a large round table in the centre of the
room — ^just an English loo-table — upon which
stands a handsome service of china ; a mirror,
and two marble slabs between the windows,
and a few pictures — copies from Spanish

140 SPAIN IN 1830.

masters, — complete the furniture : but let me
not omit five or six low stools, scattered here
and there; for every lady has her footstool.

At one end of this room, opening from the
side, is a recess, twelve or thirteen feet square,
and not concealed by any curtain. This is a
bed-room," — a bed-room too in constant use.
The bedstead is of steel or brass wire ; the bed
is covered with a counterpane, trimmed with
broad lace ; the furniture is all of mahogany,
and the wash-hand basin and ewer are of
brass.

A wide archway opening at the other end
of the drawing-room, leads to an ante-room,
covered with the same matting as the draw-
ing-room, and furnished with a couch, chairs,
and footstools, covered with blue satin. At
the side of this ante-room is another recess,
open like the other, containing two beds,
between them a small marble slab, with a
vessel of holy-water, and at the head of each
a small image of Christ in ivory. This is the
matrimonial chamber. The rest of the house
consists of a long, tortuous, and rather dark
passage, from which the other rooms enter:
these are, a small parlour, or study, always

SPAIN IN 1830. ]41

poorly fitted up ; a boudoir, with a low couch
covered with black satin, a couple of foot-
stools, a table, and very handsome looking-
glass; this important room is either matted, or
floored with Valencia tiles; and the walls are
generally covered with a French paper, and
adorned or disfigured as the case may happen,
with a few pictures, religious, or of an opposite
character, or both, according to the taste of the
seiiora.

T]:.e worst room in almost every Spanish
house, is the dining-room, or rather eating-
room, for every meal is taken in the same
room : the floor has generally no matting, — the
walls are unadorned, — the furniture is of the
commonest description, — and the room itself
so small, that the table, which nearly fills the
room, is rarely large enough for more than six
persons. This at once lets a stranger into an
important secret in the economy of Madrid
society ; that there is no probability of receiving
an invitation to dinner. I say Madrid society,
because in the southern provinces, the dining-
room and its uses are different. But although
a stranger must not expect many invitations to
dinner in Madrid, yet, if he be once received

142 SPAIN IN 1830.

into a family upon a familiar footing, and
should pay a visit while the family are at
dinner, or just sitting down to dinner, he will
not be denied admittance, but will be re-
quested to walk into the eating-room, and a
chair will be immediately placed for him at
table. This civility, however, must be accepted
with discretion ; because the civil speech, which
is invariably addressed to a stranger, when
he concludes his first visit, — Esta casa es a la
disposicion de V^-, — " This house is at your
disposal," — is a form of words not to be
always interpreted literally. I have omitted
to mention the Spanish kitchen, which is
provided with a stone table, in which there
are six or eight circular holes for charcoal,
and numerous earthen vessels to fit these
holes. Generally speaking, respectable Spanish
houses, whether in Madrid, Seville, or Valencia,
are scrupulously clean. I have never in any
country, seen kitchens and bed-rooms so clean
as they are in Spain. The description I have
given may serve to convey to the reader a
tolerably accurate idea of the houses of Madrid :
some may contain a greater number of apart-
ments, and others fewer ; and some may be a

SPAIN IN 1830. 143

little better, others a little worse furnished ;
but in the material points, they are all the
same ; they have all an elegant drawing-room,
bed-rooms in recesses, a wretched dininir-
room, and a luxuriously fitted-up boudoir.

In a former chapter, I spoke of the manner
of living among the middle classes in the
northern provinces. In Madrid, and generally
in Castile, there is somewhat more luxury in the
table, though the Spaniards as a nation, may
justly be characterized as abstemious, and little
addicted to the pleasures of the table. The
olla or puchero, is not the sole dish that graces
the tables of the middle and upper classes in
Madrid : there is generally a stew of some kind
added, and dinner is always followed by cakes,
sweetmeats, and fruit ; but this is after all but
an indifferent dinner for one with an income
of 700/. or 800/. a-year. And there are still
very many in Madrid, even in the upper ranks,
who are contented with the puchero; and I
was myself acquainted with one or two families
in good circumstances, who yet lived in a way
which we should call piggishly in England,
sending to the cook-shop for a puchero, and to

144 SPAIN IN 1830.

the wine-shop, for the daily portion required
at dinner.

The inhabitants of Madrid, excepting the
trades people, rise late, and breakfast between
ten and eleven, upon a cup of chocolate, with
scarcely any bread, and a glass of cold water.
Going to mass, dressing, paying and receiving
visits, and walking the streets, occupy the
ladies till the dinner hour; and this, following
the example of the court, and in order that it
may not interfere with the claims of the Prado,
is early, even among the highest ranks. Then
follows the siesta; and the interval between
the siesta and dressing for the Prado, is
usually passed upon the balcony. After the
Prado, is the tertulia, which may be said to be
the only form of Spanish society. When you
have the entr6eof a house in Madrid, and pay
your visit in the evening, you find the family
assembled near the windows, with two or
three strangers, chatting and laughing; the
ladies of the house without mantillas, and the
visitors generally wearing them. The young
ladies, or seiioritas, are in one part of the
room, with one or two caballeros ; and the

SPAIN IN IS/JO. 145

Senora de Casa in another, probably con-
versing" with a priest or friar; unless she be
young, in which case there is no division in
the society. The room is usually badly lighted,
most commonly with a semi-luna at the far-
thest corner, — and the master of the house is
rarely one of the party. He is a member of
another tertulia. The conversation is always
lively, and somewhat piquante, and the visitors
stay late, and are not presented with any re-
freshment.

If the visit be made in the morning, the lady,
if not walking the streets, or gossiping, is found
in her boudoir, seated upon a low couch, in a
black silk dress ; her feet upon a footstool ; and
beside her, a large basket, such as Murillo has
so often painted. She is always engaged in
some kind of embroidery, — and her fan, which
she resumes the moment you enter, lies on the
table before her.

The only kind of party to which a stranger
is invited in Madrid, is a ball ; but there is no
necessity for an invitation, if one has the entree
of the house. At these parties, the ladies are
rarely dressed in the Spanish fashion, but

VOL. I. L

146 SPAIN IN 1830.

generally a la Francaise, with white or coloured
dresses, — the only distinguishing, and never
to be mistaken mark of a Spanish woman, being
the fan. The Spanish ladies invariably dance
well ; and yet their mode of dancing is as
opposite as possible from the French style :
it is the management of the head and shoul-
ders ; and the manner, not the power of motion
in the limbs, that distinguish the Spanish
woman. There is another remarkable differ-
ence between the Spanish, and the French or
English dance : the gravity of countenance, —
and generally, the silence that prevails among
quadrillers, both in France and England, is
remarkable, and even ludicrous ; but the
Spanish ladies talk and laugh while they
dance, — seeing no reason why one pleasure
should suspend another. At these parties
there is rarely any refreshment offered ; a
glass of water may be had, but nothing more.
Are the Spaniards a hospitable people ? —
This is a question that cannot be answered
by a simple monosyllable : it seems difficult
to separate hospitality from generosity ; and
yet this distinction must be made in speak-
ing of the conduct of Spaniards towards

SPAIN IN 1830. 147

strangers. A Spaniard considers himself to
be remarkable for his hospitality, because he
is at all times happy to see a stranger within
his doors : he says, speaking to an English-
man, " in your country you invite a foreigner
to your house, and there the civility ends ;
he cannot return without another invitation.
But here, if a stranger be once received
within our houses, they are ever afterwards
at his disposal ; he needs no farther invita-
tion." This is true enough, but it scarcely
amounts to hospitality. This word, from the
days of Abraham, who fed the angels, has sig-
nified setting meat before one ; but a stranger
might live years in a Spanish city, and be
on terms of intimacy with many wealthy
Spaniards, and might yet never break bread
within a Spanish house, — certainly never by
invitation. I speak at present of Madrid, and
the cities of the interior. In Cadiz, Malaga,
Valencia, and Barcellona, dinner parties are
occasionally given. But, with this seeming-
want of hospitality towards strangers, there
is much, and very uncalled-for generosity.
Wherever a stranger goes in company with

r. 2

148 SPAIN IN 1830.

a Spaniard, — if to a coffee-house, to the
theatre, to a bull-fight, — even to shops where
fancy articles are sold, the Spaniard insists
upon paying : any remonstrance offends him ;
nor will he ever, at any after time, permit
you to repay the obligation in a similar
way. He is at all times ready with his purse ;
and draws its strings with the alacrity of a
man who is eager to give away his money.
It is difficult to refer to any common principle,
the different ways in which a Spaniard and an
Englishman shew kindness to a stranger. The
Spaniard lays out his money upon him cheer-
fully; but gives him nothing to eat: the En-
glishman, on the other hand, would dislike
paying a crown for a foreigner, but would ask
him to dinner again and again, and thus lay out
ten times its amount.

I fear this apparent disregard of money, may
have some connexion with that great and un-
fortunate failing in the character of the middle
classes in Spain, particularly in Castile — love
of display, or ostentation. This failing belongs
to the middle and upper classes in an extra-
ordinary degree; while inconsiderateness, and
carelessness of to-morrow, are conspicuous in

II

SPAIN IN 1830. 149

the characters both of the middle and lower
classes. Almost every one in Spain lives up
to his income. Even the employees, who hold
their posts by a very uncertain tenure, seldom
lay by any thing ; they generally die penny-
less: and it is a certain fact, that the families
of employees who have died beggars, have
swelled the Spanish pension list to a most
formidable length. A Spaniard will dine
without a table-cloth, to save the expense of
washing; but this, not that he may lay by
his money, — but that he may have the eclat,
not t\ie pleasure, of frequenting the opera; the
pride, not the gratification, of eating ice in the
Cafe Catalina. I have known some extraor-
dinary instances of this love of display : a
Spanish officer, with whom we had some ac-
quaintance, invited us to accompany him and
his wife to the Prado. A handsome carriage
drove up to the door, attended by two servants
in gay liveries : will it be believed, that the
carriage and servants were hired for the occa-
sion ; and that this officer was married, had a
family, and possessed only his pay, amounting
to about 140/. a-year? What sacrifices must
have been made for the indidgence of this

150 SPAIN IN 1830.

piece of vanity ! I knew the family of a judge,
consisting of a widow, and four daughters, all
of whom appeared every Sunday on the Prado
with new satin shoes and clean white gloves :
the pension of a judge's widow is 8000 reals,
(80/. sterling). There is nothing remarkable in
these instances ; and the same love of display
is visible among the lower orders in Madrid,
as far as this can be shewn in their rank of life.
Persons in very humble circumstances are seen
in most expensive dresses ; and it is not at all
unusual to meet a female servant with a comb,
fan, and mantilla, whose united expense would
amount to 41. or 51.

In the upper and middle classes of society
in Madrid, morals are at the lowest ebb : though
veils are almost thrown aside, and serenades
are rare, Spain is still the country of gallantry
and intrigue. Want of education among the
women, and the absence of moral and religious
principle among the men, are the fruitful
sources of this universal demoralization. In
the education of a Spanish woman, all has
reference to display; knowledge forms no part
of it. The business of her life, is dress and
show; and its object, admiration: this leads to

SPAIN IN 1830. 151

gallantry, and all its train of consequences. It
is impossible to walk into the street, or along
the Prado, without perceiving even among
children, that the rudiments of Spanish in-
discretion are already laid. Little girls of the
tenderest age shew by their gait and manner,
that they are already initiated in the business
of life. I have heard others, scarcely escaped
from childhood, talk in a manner that would
have made an English married woman blush, —
and, to gather something even from infancy,
I have heard a child five or six years old, ask
its companion, how it could disregard appear-
ance so much as to venture out without a pro-
per ceinture.

In married life, I have reason to think that
infidelity is more universal than in Italy; but
the origin of it is different, and the thing is
differently managed in the two countries. It
is a great error to imagine — as some old writers
upon Spain, and accurate writers in other
respects, have asserted — that there is any
connivance in Spain on the part of the hus-
band : Spanish husbands, with few exceptions,
are too proud to bargain for their own disho-
nour. While I was in Madrid, two instances

152 SPAIN IN 1830.

occurred, in which husbands murdered their
wives in fits of jealousy: in neither of these
cases was the thing sifted to the bottom ; be-
cause it was known that in doing this the
villany of two priests would have been
brought to light. The Cortejo of Spain is
by no means the Cisesbeo of Italy. The liaison
in Spain is a secret one ; it has not originated
in interest or vanity, but in passion ; and the
greatest pains are taken to conceal it from the
husband, and even (intimates excepted) from
the world. There are not in Madrid the same
opportunities for the formation and prosecu-
tion of intrigue, as in Seville and the cities of
the south. In these, the gardens and summer
houses, — the walls of both forming a part of
the street, — are particularly favourable to the
serenade, the billet-doux, and their recom-
pense. In Madrid, opportunities are more
precarious : the mass, the street, the balcony,
are the only places of rendezvous ; and of
these, the latter is the most prized. Walking
the streets, while all the world enjoys the
siesta, wakeful sehoras and serioritas are here
and there seen behind the curtains that fall
over the balconies, and which are supposed to

SPAIN IN 1830. 153

shade the light from the eyes of the sleeper;
and now and then some medium of intelli-
gence is seen fluttering downward, to be picked
up by a cloaked cabalero. There is another
important difference between the gallantries
of Spain, and of Italy or France : in Spain,
they are not confined to married women : im-
proper liaisons are not unfrequently formed by
unmarried ladies ; and those whom one sees
on the balconies, are much more frequently
seiioritas than senoras.

Intrigue is not confined in Madrid to the
upper, or even the middle classes of society;
but is found also among the trades people.
Sometimes during the hours of sleep and
silence, I have ventured, in passing along the
street, to draw aside the curtain that is meant
to secure an uninterrupted siesta to the in-
mates of the embroiderers, perfumers, or
dress-makers' shops ; and I have more than
once interrupted a tete-a-tete. It is fair to add,
however, that I oftener found the seiiorita fast
asleep. It is well understood in Madrid, that
during the time of siesta, no one enters a shop
where a curtain is drawn ; but a stranger may

J 54 SPAIN IN 1830.

sometimes do unpermitted things, under pre-
tence of ignorance.

The lower orders in Madrid cannot be
characterized as grossly immoral : they are not
drunken and brutal, like the mob of London;
nor ferocious and insolent, like the canaille
of Paris. In walking the streets of Madrid,
it is rarely that one sees either quarrelling or
gambling ; and I believe it might be possible
to walk through any part of the city with the
corner of a handkerchief hanging out of the
pocket, and to return with it in its place :
petty larceny, a Castilian thinks beneath him.
Between the character of the Castilian and
the Andalusian, there is as marked a dis-
tinction as that which exists in the characters
of any two people inhabiting different king-
doms ; but I will not anticipate.

I suspect that among the upper and middle
ranks in Madrid, religion is as low as morals :
among them, priestcraft exercises very little in-
fluence ; and, indeed, ridicule and dislike of all
orders of religion, form a very common season-
ing to conversation. There can be no doubt
that the occupation of the Peninsula by the

SPAIN IN 18:50. 155

French army, has gone far towards diminish-
ing the respect in which the priesthood was
formerly held by the great majority of all
classes in Spain. In Madrid, I have never
heard one individual above the rank of a small
tradesman, speak with respect, of religion, — or
with affection, of the priesthood. There can-
not be the smallest doubt that, in the capital
at least, both the clergy and the friars are
sensible of a great diminution in the power
which they formerly enjoyed ; and their tone
and bearing are altered accordingly. At pre-
sent, they, at all events the regular clergy,
yield a little to the tide that has set in against
them. I have been surprised to hear the
freedom with which some of the priests have
spoken of the state of Spain. 1 have heard
them particularly lament the difficulties that
stand in the way of publishing books, and
admit the oppressive nature of the enactments
that regard education. The clergy have not
the same interest as the friars, in supporting
the present system, because they have not
the same fears. A revolution that might
possibly chase every monk from the soil, and
which would, at all events, des|)oil them of

156 SPAIN IN 1830.

their possessions and terminate their dominion,
would probably but slightly affect the clergy
of the church ; and I have observed that since
the French revolution, their fears have di-
minished. The example of France, in the
respect it has shewn for the rights of the
church, they look upon as a guarantee of
their own security; and perhaps justly. Go-
vernment still seeks for support in the in-
fluence of the church, and endeavours, by
every means, to keep up this influence. This,
it may easily be supposed, is attempted
through the medium of education, which,
throughout Spain, may be said to be a go-
vernment concern. The schools in Madrid
are all conducted by Jesuits ; and the educa-
tion received in them, is such as might be
expected from their heads. This surveillance
commenced when the king returned to the
head of the government, in 1824. The col-
leges were then remodelled ; and all the pub-
lic seminaries, even those destined for military
education, were placed under Jesuit heads. I
have frequently met in the streets of Madrid,
long lines of students of the Colegio Imperial,
and of the Samnario de Noblcfi, some in military

SPAIN IN 18:30. 157

uniform, and each company headed by a priest.
And no choice is left to the people, as to the
education of their children : the only choice
is, the government school, or no school ; for
obstacles, almost insurmountable, are thrown
in the way of private tuition. Before a family
dare employ a tutor, the permission of govern-
ment must be obtained ; and the tutor must
provide himself with a license : this implies
minute inquiries into character, political and
religious opinions, &c. ; so that, in fact, no
tutor is ever licensed, unless there is a perfect
security that the system of education to be
pursued by him, — intellectual, political, and
religious, — shall be precisely the same as that
taught in the public seminaries : there is no-
thing therefore gained by private tuition.
Whether the priesthood may possibly regain
any part of its lost influence, owing to the
present system of education, may admit of a
question. If Spain should remain in its pre-
sent condition, without revolution or change,
it is probable that the growth of liberal
opinions may be retarded ; the thousands now
educated on Jesuitical principles, and denied
the means of real knowledge, were not old

158 SPAIN IN 1830.

enough during the existence of the constitu-
tion, to have caught a glimpse of the light
which at that time dawned upon the darkness
of Spain ; nor have they had opportunities
of being influenced by French principles,
during the time of the occupation of the Pe-
ninsula. The policy of the Spanish govern-
ment, therefore, with respect to its surveil-
lance of education, is not unworthy of a
government that desires to maintain itself by
the blindness of the people.

The influence of the friars is much greater
than that of the priests ; though this also
diminishes daily. I speak of Madrid only.
In many of the other cities of Spain, of which
I shall afterwards speak more in detail — par-
ticularly in Toledo, Seville, Granada, Lorca,
and Murcia, and in most of the smaller towns,
I think it almost impossible that the influence
of the friars could ever have been much greater
than it is. In Madrid, less attention is paid
to religious ceremonials and processions, than
in any other city of Spain: and one sees fewer
external proofs of the veneration of the people
for the character of friar. A Franciscan may
pass from one end of Madrid to the other,

SPAIN IN ISnO. 159

without having one claim made upon his pater-
nal blessing by a grown-up person. I have
seen the Virgin of St. Rosalio, and an image
of St. Thomas, carried through the streets,
with some hundreds of friars accompanying
them, without any one being excited to a
greater act of devotion than raising the hat
from the head : and during my morning walk,
when I invariably looked into the churches
belonging to whichever of the convents that
happened to lie in my way, I seldom saw
more than half a dozen persons at their devo-
tions. All this is very different at Toledo and
Seville ; and judging by the difference I have
observed in the proofs of bigotry apparent in
the different Spanish cities, I feel myself jus-
tified in believing that the influence of the
friars, as well as that of the priests, has sensi-
bly diminished in Madrid. But it is far
from being small : it still exists, with less or
more force, among all ranks : and the breast of
a friar is still the favourite depository of family
secrets. From my house, I could see the
regular visits made by friars to several houses
within the range of my window ; and little
children may at all times be seen in the

160 SPAIN IN 1830.

street, running after the monk of any order, to
kiss his hand and beg his blessing.

There are many reasons why the influence
of the friars should decline more slowly than
that of the priesthood: as the first of these
may be mentioned, the greater immorality of
the lives of the latter. This immorality is
notorious throughout Spain ; and, indeed,
they take little pains to conceal, — I will not
say their pecadillos, — but the opportunities and
temptations to commit them, which they create
for themselves ; and they obtain full credit for
yielding to these temptations. Perhaps it is
doing wrong to the clergy to assign to the friars
greater purity of life than to them ; but what-
ever may be the immoralities of the monks,
they have more the art, and they possess
better opportunities too of concealing them.
Priests live in the world, and have worse
opportunities of concealment than other men,
because their profession lays them open to
scrutiny ; but friars live in a world of their
own, fenced round, not only by walls of stone,
but by a more impenetrable wall of prescrip-
tive veneration, — and they are very daring
eyes that pry into the secrets of the cloister.

SPAIN IN 1830. IGl

But strange, and even dreadful events, occa-
sionally occur, to lay open the hidden scenes
that are transacted within a convent's w^alls.
One such occurred last September, while I
was in Madrid. One morning, the Superior
of the monastery of San Basilio was found in
bed murdered, — ^his throat cut, his hands tied,
and several stabs in his body. There could be
no doubt that the murder had been committed
by the friars ; and as no pretence could be
found against instituting an inquiry, a com-
mission was accordingly appointed to investi-
gate, and sat during several days. Strange
disclosures were made : it appeared that the
superior had been a good man, and remarkably
strict in the observances enjoined upon the
order, — too much so for the inclination of the
friars, who had been accustomed to commit
every kind of excess, and to transgress in the
most essential points, the rules of the convent;
particularly in being absent during the night.
The superior used to reprove this laxity, and
exerted his authority to restrain it ; and dis-
like towards him was naturally produced. In
these circumstances, no doubt, rested in the

VOL. I. M

162 SPAIN IN 1830.

mind of any one, that the murder was com-
mitted by the monks ; but it had been re-
solved, that in some way or other the affair
should be got rid of. The porter of the con-
vent, who, previous to the appointment of the
commission, had declared that no one had
entered, so qualified his words before the com-
missioners, that through his evidence, they
found a loop-hole by which justice might ooze
out : — he said, that he had some recollection,
when half asleep, of having seen a person
enter; but besides the impossibility of any
one entering, unless the porter had been so
much awake as to open the gate, the murder
could not have been committed by one person.
The result was, that the commission broke up
without coming to any decision; but as a sacri-
fice to public opinion, three of the friars were
committed to prison on suspicion. It was
well understood that the affair would never go
further ; and I was assured by the wife of a
person holding a high official employment,
that in a few months the imprisoned monks
would be found again in their convent. When
the king returned to Spain in 1823, he hanged
a friar for a murder ; but this was done at that

SPAIN IN 1830. 1G3

particular juncture to please the Constitu-
tionalists ; and while the investigation I have
mentioned v^^as proceeding, every one knew
that his majesty dared not venture upon a
repetition of this.

A few years ago, a curious expos^ was made
at Cadiz, which, as I am upon the subject of
friars, I shall mention in this place. There
was, and still is, a banker named Gargallo,
one of the richest men in Cadiz, whose magni-
ficent dwelling-house is separated from the
wall of the Franciscan monastery only by one
small house ; and this house also belonged to
Sr. Gargallo, although it was not inhabited.
The master of the house, who though a rich
man, looked closely into his affairs, perceived
that his cook's bill greatly exceeded the sum
necessary for the subsistence of the family;
and after bearing this during a considerable
time, he at length discharged his cook. The
cook applied for service elsewhere ; and upon
his new master applying to Gargallo for a
character, he refused to give one, alleging as a
reason, the dishonesty of his servant : the cook
enraged at this injustice, and more solicitous
M 2

164 SPAIN IN 1830.

to preserve his own good character than that
of the friars, returned to Gargallo's house,
taking witnesses along with him; and aloud in
the court-yard told this story: that every day
he had carried a hot dinner into the house
adjoining, where Gargallo's wife and daughter
entertained a select party of Franciscan friars ;
and what was worse still, his late master's
money had been expended in the support of
three children and a nurse, who all lived in
the adjoining house. The truth of this story
was easily put to the test ; the three children
and a nurse were found in the house, and the
whole affair was brought to light. The especial
favour of the ladies was reserved for only two
of the friars : the very reverend father Anto-
nio Sanches de la Camissa, Sacristan Mayor,
was the favourite of the wife ; and another,
whose name I forget, but who was next in
rank to the prior, and had formerly been con-
fessor in Gargallo's house, was the selection of
his daughter. These had the entree of Gar-
gallo's house at all hours ; and in order to
keep quiet a few others, who were supposed
to be in the secret, a savoury dinner was pro-
vided every day for the self-denying Francis-

SPAIN IN 1830. 165

cans. Gargallo married his daughter to an old
apothecary, at Chiclana, where she now lives
a widow ; and he confined his wife during two
years in an upper room in his own house ; but
she now lives again with her husband. At
the first disclosure of the affair, he wished to
send both offenders to the Penitentiary ; but
the captain-general of the province interfered,
to prevent so much publicity in an affair com-
promising the character of the Franciscans.
No notice whatever of this disgraceful trans-
action was taken in the convent. Both reverend
fathers continned to bear the character of good
Franciscans ; and doubtless returned for a time,
to the austerities of the order, — and when I
was in Cadiz, one of them every day accom-
panied Manuel Munoz, the superior, and Ce-
rillo, who had been banished to Seville, in an
evening walk.

But these immoralities of the friars, al-
though some such are occasionally brought
to light, and although much that exists is
hidden, are yet far more rare than the immo-
ralities of the priests ; and, it is without
doubt, the greater immorality of the clergy,
and the greater belief in that immorality.

166 SPAIN IN 1830.

that are the primary reasons why the influ-
ence of the friars diminishes more slowly than
that of the priesthood.

Several other reasons might be given, why
the influence of the friars maintains itself
better than that of the clergy, in the minds
of the people, — especially the lower orders:
one may be stated to be, the known austeri-
ties practised by some of the orders, particu-
larly by the Franciscans, the Capuchins, and
the Carthusians ; another, the greater alms
given by the convents than by the church ;
another, the mystery that involves the lives
and habits of the friars, — for mystery recom-
mends any thing to the ignorant ; and a
fourth, which addresses itself to all classes,
is, the direct tax which the support of the
clergy imposes. The friars, whether poor or
not, have the semblance of poverty ; at all
events, the sources of their revenues are not
seen to flow into their treasury; and, although
the nation at large groans under the weight,
individuals feel no part of it. Such are a few
of the causes which, in my opinion, operate
in supporting the influence of the friars ; and
in diminishing that of the clergy.

SPAIN IN 1830. 1G7

Comparatively with the rest of Spain, there
is little attention paid to the ceremonials of
religion in Madrid. I often strolled into the
churches at all hours ; and, excepting at time
of mass, few were to be seen at prayer. One
morning I walked into the collegiate church
of St. Isodro, and found the pulpit occupied
by a priest, who was exclaiming, apparently
extempore, and with great vehemence, against
the sin of religious infidelity. St. Isodro is
the principal church of Madrid, and yet I do
not believe there were 300 listeners to the
discourse ; and of these at least five-sixths were
women. It is a curious spectacle to see the
women all sitting upon the ground a la Turqice,
on little round mats, and every fan in quick
motion. The entrance of a stranger into a
church during mass, always creates a sensa-
tion : a hundred eyes may at any time be
withdrawn from the contemplation of either
a preacher or an image, by the slightest pos-
sible cause.

CHAPTER V.

MADRID.

The Profession of a Nun ; Reflections ; Description of the Interior
of a Convent; the Monastic Life ; Description of a Bull-Fight;
Sketches of Spanish Character ; a Horse Race.

No one ever visited a Roman Catholic coun-
try, without feeling some curiosity upon the
subject of nuns and convents, monks and
monasteries; and there is certainly no country
in the world that affords so many incitements
to this curiosity, or so many facilities for grati-
fying it, as Spain. Among all the ceremonies
belonging to the church of Rome, none per-
haps possesses so much interest in the eyes
of a stranger, as that which is denominated
" taking the veil ;" chiefly, because it is the
only one of them all, that addresses the heart
more than the eye. I had always felt great

SPAIN IN 18.30. 169

curiosity to witness this extraordinary sacri-
fice of reason and nature, at the altar of bigotry
and ignorance; but I found the gratification
of this curiosity more difficult than I had
imagined. Heretics are no welcome guests at
such times ; and during the first month of my
residence in Madrid, I made two unsuccessful
attempts to witness the ceremony of taking
the veil ! It fortunately happened, however,
that the priest whom 1 had engaged at my
arrival in Madrid, to speak Spanish, and read
Don Quixotte with me, and with whom I
passed much of my time, was the officiating
priest in the convent of Comendadoras de Calci-
trava; and as I had often expressed a strong
desire to see a profession, he came one day
with the welcome intelligence, that in that
convent, a profession would take place on the
Sunday morning following ; and as it was his
dutv to officiate on the occasion, and to ad-
minister the sacrament to the new sister, he
had it in his power to gratify my wishes, and
to admit me at an early hour : and he also all
but promised, that after the ceremony, I should
be permitted to see the interior of the con-
vent — a privilege even greater than the other.

170 SPAIN IN 1830.

The chapel of the convent is separated from
the other apartments by a wide iron grating —
so wide, that every thing which takes place on
the other side, is seen as distinctly as if there
was no separation whatever. I placed myself
close to this grating some little time before the
ceremony commenced.

How many strange, wild, and romantic as-
sociations are connected with *' taking the
veil !" The romances of our earlier days, — the
tales, that professed to reveal the mysteries of
the cloister, crowd upon our memory : we see
standing before us the creatures of our imagin-
ation — the inflexible lady abbess — the trem-
bling nun — we hear the authoritative question,
and the timid reply — we see the midnight
procession, and hear the anthem of sweet and
holy voices — and a crowd of mysterious and
half-forgotten dreams and visions float before
us. Some of these early visions I had learned
to doubt the reality of, — I had already caught
occasional glimpses of those mysterious crea-
tures who inhabit convent walls, without find-
ing any realization of my vision of charms
more than mortal. I had learned to know
that nuns grow old, and that the veil does not

SPAIN IN ISnO. 17 J

always shadow loveliness ; but having under-
stood that the victim about to sacrifice herself
was scarcely seventeen, I dismissed from my
mind all the realities that warred with my
romantic illusions, and recurred to the dream
of my earlier days.

At the hour appointed, the abbess entered
the room on the other side of the grating,
accompanied by all the nuns, and by several
ladies, friends and relatives of the novice. She
entered a moment after ; and immediately
knelt down, with her face towards the grat-
ing, so that I had a near and distinct view of
her. She was attired in the novice's robe of
pure white, and wore a crown of flowers upon
her head. She seemed scarcely more than
sixteen. Her countenance was gentle, sweet,
and interesting; — there was an expression of
seriousness, but not of sadness, in her face ;
and a skin, fairer than usually falls to the lot
of Spanish women, was sensibly coloured with
a fine carnation, — the glow of youth, and
health, and happiness, yet lingering on her
cheek; and connecting her with the world of
light, and life, and freedom, about to close
upon her for ever.

172 SPAIN IN 1830.

The administrator now entered by the chapel,
and placed himself in a chair close to where
I was stationed, and at the side of an opening
in the grating of about a foot square. The
novice then rose, and walking forward to the
grating, presented him with a paper, which
he read aloud : this was the act of renuncia-
tion of all property, then and for ever ; and
during this ceremony the novice retired and
knelt as before, holding in her hand a long
lighted taper, with which the abbess pre-
sented her. The preparatory service then
commenced by reading and chanting ; and
this, although monotonous, was pleasing and
impressive, according well with the solemnity
of the scene that had introduced it ; and in
this service the novice joined, with a clear
sweet voice, in which nothing of emotion
could be distinguished. When this was con-
cluded, the novice again rose, and advanced
to the grating, and pronounced slowly and
distinctly the three vows that separate her from
the world, — chastity, poverty, and obedience.
Her voice never faltered ; nor could I perceive
the slightest change of countenance ; the colour
only, seemed to be gradually forsaking her.

SPAIN IN 1830. 173

The lady abbess, who stood close by her side,
wept all the while. Ah ! if each tear could
have told why it flowed, what a history might
have been unfolded. Indignation was the
feeling produced in my mind. I wished for
the cannon of the Constitutionalists, to throw
down these most odious of prisons ; and even
to the priest, who stood by me in his crim-
son and gilded surplice, I could not restrain
myself from saying, half audibly, " Que in-
famia ! "

When the vows that could never be re-
called had been pronounced by this misguided
child, she stepped back, and threw herself
prostrate upon the ground, — this is the act
confirmatory of her vows, — symbolical of
death, and signifying that she is dead to the
world. The service was then resumed, — a
bell continued slowly to toll ; and the priest
read ; while the nuns who stood around their
new-made sister, responded, — " dead to the
world — separated from kindred — bride of hea-
ven ! " and the nun who lies prostrate is sup-
posed, at the same time, to repeat to God in
secret, the vows she has already pronounced
aloud. When this was concluded, a slow

174 SPAIN IN 1830.

organ peel, and a solemn swell of voices rose,
and died away ; and the abbess then raised
the nun from the ground, and embraced her ;
and all the other nuns and her relations also
embraced her. I saw no tear upon any cheek,
excepting upon the cheek of the abbess, whose
face was so full of benignity, that it half re-
conciled me to the fate of the young initiated
who had vowed obedience to her. When she
had embraced every one, she again knelt for
a few moments^ and then approached the
grating along with the abbess ; and the priest
handed to the abbess through the opening, the
vestments of a nun. Then came the last act
of the drama: — the crown was lifted from her
head ; the black vestment was put on, and the
girdle and the rosary ; and the black hood was
drawn over her head ; — she was now a nun,
and she again embraced the abbess and all
the sisters. Still I could not discover a single
tear, excepting on the cheek of the abbess,
who continued to weep almost without ceasing
to the very end : the countenance of the young
nun remained unmoved. The crown was
again replaced upon her head, to be worn all
that day ; the sacrament was administered.

SPAIN IN 1830. 175

and one last embrace by friends and relations
terminated the scene.

I had thus seen what I had long felt so
much anxiety to see, — " taking the veil ;" and
I found it, at the same time, a stirring and
a melancholy spectacle : stirring, because it
filled the mind with indignation against those
whose cruel and insidious counsel had mis-
led an innocent girl ; and melancholy, because
it pointed to a life uncheered by life's sweetest
charities, — unblest by its holiest ties, — life
without interest, without change, without
hope ; its sources of enjoyment dried up; and
its wells of affection frozen over.

It is not difficult to account for such sacri-
fices as this. A young person enters a convent
as a novice at fifteen or sixteen : this requires
little persuasion, —the scene is new, and there-
fore not without its attraction. Mothers,
sisters, and friends are occasionally seen ; and
no vow prevents a return to the world. During
the noviciate, she forms attachments among
the nuns, who exert themselves to the utter-
most to please her. The attractions of the
world are not presented to her, and they are,
therefore, not felt to be attractions ; and all

176 SPAIN IN 1830.

the while, the priests and confessors have been
labouring to impress her with a notion of the
excellence of a religious life, — its pure enjoy-
ment in this world, and its certain and great
reward in another ; and these arguments are
enforced by strictures upon the vexations and
evils of the world without, and the lack of
enjoyment to be found in it. Such reasoning
cannot fail to produce its effect upon the mind
of a young person who has never known the
world, and who is daily assured by the sisters
in the convent that they are happy : add to
this, a certain eclat in taking the veil, — ^ex-
tremely captivating to a youthful mind, — and
it will scarcely seem surprising, that when the
noviciate expires, there should be nothing ter-
rible, or even very affecting in the ceremonial
that fixes the destiny of the novice. She
feels that she is vowing a continuance of the
same life that she has already led, and for
which habit may even have taught her an in-
clination; and her days are to be spent with
those whom she probably loves more than any
others without the convent walls. And what
are the vows, to a child who has entered a
convent at fifteen ? She vows obedience to

SPAIN IN 18.10. 177

one whom she feels pleasure in obeying. She
renounces property she never enjoyed, and
whose uses are not understood ; and in vowing
chastity, she knows only that she is dedi-
cating herself to heaven. The profession of a
girl of sixteen or seventeen, is an abomina-
tion ; and admitted so to be, even by the
priests. A canon at Seville — nay, more, a
Dominican friar near Alicante, agreed with
me in opinion, that no woman ought to be
permitted to take the veil at an earlier age
than twenty-four. If a woman who has tried
the world, and knows its enjoyments and its
dangers, chooses to renounce it, and retire
into a convent, she can only accuse herself of
folly, or bigotry ; but it is altogether a piece
of villany when a child leaves the nursery to
begin her noviciate.

The priest, who had led me to hope that
I might be permitted to visit the interior of
the convent, did not disappoint me. This
convent is one of the most complete, and the
best fitted up of any in Madrid. No one
enters it who cannot bring to its treasury a
considerable fortune ; and its accommodations

VOL. I. N

178 SPAIN IN 1830.

are accordingly upon a scale of corresponding-
comfort. In company with the priest and the
porteress, an old nun, I went over the greater
part of the building. The accommodations of
each nun consist of a small parlour and a dor-
mitory adjoining, and a small kitchen. The
nuns do not eat in company. The dinners
are separately cooked, and the whole is then
carried to a public room, where it is blessed ;
and again carried back to the separate apart-
ments, where each nun eats alone. The little
parlours of the nuns are plain and clean ; the
walls white- washed, and the floors generally
matted ; but the room is without any fire-
place, and contains a table and two chairs.
The beds are extremely small, and extremely
hard ; and upon the table, in every dormitory,
there is a crucifix. Among other parts, I was
conducted to the chamber of the new-made
nun. The bed was strewn with flowers —
marigolds and dahlias, — and a crown of jilly-
flowers lay upon the pillow. Here every
thing was new ; yet all would grow old along
with the inmate. A new bright lamp stood
upon the table ; and as I looked at it, I could
not avoid the picture that presented itself in

SPAIN IN 1830. 179

fancy, — the dull light falling upon the white
wall ; and the silent inmate of the chamber
with her book and rosary, through the long-
chill evenings of winter; — what a contrast
from the picture of a cheerful home !

The rooms of the nuns all look into the
garden. Those in front are occupied by ladies
who have not taken the veil, but who have
retired from the world, and who live there
in tranquillity and seclusion. Many of these
rooms are prettily fitted up, and contain small
libraries, altogether of religious books, and a
few pictures of the same character. In going
through the convent, I saw two of the nuns, —
old, disagreeable, ill-favoured women, — the
younger sisters were not visible, excepting the
new-made nun, who seemed that day to be
allowed the range of the convent ; for I saw
her, with her crown still upon her head, in
her own chamber, in one of the corridors, and
in the garden : she looked quite happy. After
having been conducted through almost every
part of the convent, I was introduced into the
refectory, and presented with wine and cake.
I shall never forget the taste of that cake; it
N 2

180 SPAIN IN 1830.

seemed to me, to taste of the tomb ; and crum-
bled in one's hand like something touched by
the finger of decay.

The order to which this convent belongs, is
not so strict as many others. The chief differ-
ence in strictness between one order and
another, consists in the more rigid observance
of fasts, the number of meagre days, the obli-
gation to night prayers, and the rules as to
solitude and society. In some of the orders,
dispensation from the vows of poverty and
obedience may be obtained ; and such dispen-
sations occasionally are obtained, — if, for ex-
ample, the labour or service of a nun should
be required for the support or comfort of a des-
titute or aged mother. Dispensation from the
vow of chastity is scarcely to be obtained ; yet
even this has sometimes been known. Last
year, a lady of high family who had taken the
vows in Barcellona, obtained a general dispen-
sation, and married, — it is said that she was
never happy ; and she died a few months after-
wards. It may easily be supposed, that long
accustomed prejudices, and a superstitious
bias, acting upon the imagination, might pro-
duce disastrous effects both upon mind and

SPxVIN IN I8;50. 181

body. Ill the case of the late Countess Ofalia,
a dispensation was also obtained. She was
five years a nun. She entered the convent at
the age of fourteen ; and the dispensation was
granted upon the ground of her youth, and
also because her consent was supposed to have
been extorted. This lady had, fortunately,
less superstition than the other. She left the
convent at nineteen; and married the Count
Ofalia, with whom she lived happily.

During the French government in Spain,
under Joseph Buonaparte, and also during the
time of the constitution, the doors of the con-
vents were open to whosoever might choose to
go again into the world : it is said, that not
more than two in Madrid, and four or five
throughout the rest of Spain, availed them-
selves of this privilege. This is scarcely to
be wondered at ; superstitious fears, and con-
scientious scruples, interfered no doubt with
the wishes of many ; others had grown grey
within their convent walls, and to whom
could they return ? Some, M'ho might yet
have found enjoyment in the world, had no
means of living in it, having renounced their
inheritance ; and many, no doubt, had con-

182 SPAIN IN 1830.

tracted a partiality for a religious life, and
were actuated by pious motives.

Next to the curiosity I had felt to witness
the profession of a nun, was my curiosity to
witness an exhibition of a very different kind :
the spectacle of a bull-fight. This is one of
the many things that are to be seen in Spain,
and in no other country in the world ; and,
however barbarous the spectacle must seem
to every one but a Spaniard, it is, neverthe-
less, one of so stirring and so extraordinary
a kind, that 1 think it would almost repay a
journey to Madrid, even if the traveller set
off next morning upon his return.

The bull-fight is the national game of Spain;
and the love of the Spaniards for this spec-
tacle, is almost beyond belief. Monday, in
Madrid, is always, during the season of the
bull-fights, a kind of holiday; every body
looks forward to the enjoyments of the after-
noon ; and all the conversation is about los
toros. Frequency of repetition makes no differ-
ence to the true amateur of the bull-fight ; he
is never weary of it; at all times he finds
leisure and money to dedicate to his favour-
ite pastime. The spectacle is generally an-

SPAIN IN 1830. 183

nounced, in the name of his majesty, to begin
at four o'clock ; and, before three, all the
avenues leading towards the gate of Alcala,
are in commotion ; the Calle de Alcala, in
particular, throughout its whole immense ex-
tent, is filled with a dense crowd, of all ranks
and conditions, pouring towards the gate : a
considerable number of carriages are also seen
— even the royal carriages ; but these arrive
later : and there are also many hack cabri-
olets, their usual burden being a peasant, and
two girls, dressed in their holiday clothes ;
for there is no way of shewing gallantry so
much approved among the lower orders, as
treating to a bull-fight ; and when this is car-
ried so far as to include a drive in a red and
gilded cabriolet, the peasant need sigh no
longer.

I had been able to secure a place in one of
the best boxes, through the kindness of one
of my friends; and, some little time before the
fight begun, I was comfortably seated in the
front row, with quite enough to occupy my
attention, until the commencement. The
spectacle was most imposing. The whole
amphitheatre, said lo contain 17,000 persons.

184 SPAIN IN 1830.

was filled in every part, round and round,
and from the ground to the ceiling ; carrying
the imagination back to antiquity, and to
*' the butcheries of a Roman holiday." The
arena is about 230 feet in diameter ; this is
surrounded by a strong wooden fence, about
six feet in height, the upper half retiring about
a foot, so as to leave, in the middle of the
fence, a stepping- place, by which the men
may be able, in time of danger, to throw
themselves out of the arena. Behind this
fence, there is an open space about nine feet
wide, extending all the way round, meant as
a retreat; and where also the men in reserve
are in waiting, in case their companions
should be killed, or disabled. Behind this
space, is another higher and stronger fence
bounding the amphitheatre, for the spectators;
from this fence the seats decline backward,
rising to the outer wall ; and above these are
the boxes, which are all roofed, and are, of
course, open in front. Those on the east side,
which are exposed to the sun, (for the spec-
tacle always takes place in the evening), have
awnings ; but these are insufficient to screen
the spectators from the heat ; and accordingly,

SPAIN IN 18.30. J85

the price of the places on the west side, is con-
siderably more than the price of those exposed
to the sun. Below, in w^hat may be called the
pit, the difference in price, according to sun or
shade, is still greater, because there are there
neither coverings nor awnings : so important,
indeed, is this distinction considered, that
there is not only one price for places in the
sun, and another for places in the shade, but
there is an intermediate price for places partly
in the sun and partly in the shade, — exposed
to the sun during the first part of the evening,
but left in shade the latter part of it. The
best places in the boxes cost about 4*. ; the
best in the amphitheatre below, about 2so 6d. ;
the commonest place, next to the arena, costs
four reals. In the centre of the west side, is
the king's box ; and scattered here and there,
are the private boxes of the grandees and
amateurs, distinguished by coloured silk dra-
pery hanging over the front. In the boxes, I
saw as many women as men, — and in the
lower parts, the female spectators were also
sufficiently numerous ; all wore mantillas :
and in the lower parts of the amphitheatre
which were exposed to the sun, every spec-

186 SPAIN IN 1830.

tator, whether man or woman, carried a large
circular paper fan, made for the occasion, and
sold by men who walk round the arena before
the fight begins, raising among the spectators
their long poles, with fans suspended, and
a little bag fixed here and there, into which
the purchaser drops his four quartos (lid).

The people now began to shew their im-
patience, and shouts of el toro were heard in a
hundred quarters ; and soon after, a flourish
of trumpets and drums announced that the
spectacle was about to commence. This
created total silence, — one of the results of
intense interest, — and the motion of the fans
was for a moment suspended : — First entered
the chief magistrate of the city, on horseback,
preceded by two alguacils, or constables, and
followed by a troop of cavalry, who imme-
diately cleared the arena of every one who had
no business there ; next, an official entered on
foot, who read an ordonnance of the king, com-
manding the tight, and requiring order to be
kept ; and these preliminaries having been
gone through, the magistrates and cavalry re-
tired, leaving the arena to the two picadores,
who entered at the same moment. These are

SPAIN IN 1S30. 187

mounted on horseback, — each holding- a Jong-
lance or pike, and are the first antagonists
the bull has to encounter; they stationed them-
selves on different sides of the arena, about
twenty yards from the door at which the bull
enters ; and at a new flourish of trumpets, the
gate flew open, and the bull rushed into the
arena : this produced a deafening shout, and
then total silence. The bulls differ very
widely in courage and character : some are
rash, — some cool and intrepid, — some wary
and cautious, — some cowardly. Some, im-
mediately upon perceiving the horse and his
rider, rush upon them ; others run bellowing
round the arena, — some make towards one or
other of the Chulos, who at the same moment
that the bull appears, leap into the arena with
coloured cloaks upon their arms ; others stop,
after having advanced a little way into the
arena, look on every side, and seem uncertain
what to do. The blood of the bull is generally
first spilt: he almost invariably makes the first
attack, advancing at a quick trot upon the
picador, who generally receives him upon his
pike, wounding him somewhere about the
shoulder. Sometimes the bull, feelinjj- himself

188 SPAIN IN 1830.

wounded, retires, to meditate a different plan
of attack ; but a good bull is not turned back
by a wound, — he presses on upon his enemy,
even if in doing so, the lance be buried deeper
in his flesh. Attached to the mane of the bull
is a crimson ribbon, which it is the great object
of the picador to seize, that he may present
to his mistress this important trophy of his
prowess. I have frequently seen this ribbon
torn off at the moment that the bull closed
upon the picador.

The first bull that entered the arena, was a
bad bull: he was deficient both in courage
and cunning : the second, was a fierce bull of
Navarre, from which province the best bulls
are understood to come ; he paused only for a
moment after entering the arena, and then
instantly rushed upon the nearest picador,
who wounded him in the neck ; but the bull
disregarding this, thrust his head under the
horse's belly, and threw both him and his rider
upon the ground : the horse ran a little way;
but encumbered with trappings, he fell, — and
the bull, disregarding for a moment the fallen
picador, pursued the horse, and pushing at
him, broke the girths and disengaged the

SPAIN IN 1S30. 189

animal, which finding itself at liberty, galloped
round the arena — a dreadful spectacle, covered
with gore, and its entrails trailing upon the
ground. The bull now engaged the chulas :
these young men shew great dexterity and
sometimes considerable courage, in the running
fight, or rather play, in which they engage the
bull, — flapping their cloaks in his face,^ —
running zig-zag when pressed, and throwing
down the garments to arrest his progress a
moment, and then vaulting over the fence, — an
example which is sometimes followed by the
disappointed animal. But this kind of war-
fare, the bull of Navarre seemed to consider
child's play, — and leaving these cloaked anta-
gonists, he made furiously at the other picador,
dexterously evading the lance, and burying
his horns in the horse's breast : the horse and
his rider extricated themselves, and galloped
away ; but suddenly the horse dropped down,
the wound having proved mortal. The bull,
victorious over both enemies, stood in the
centre of the arena, ready to engage another ;
but the spectators, anxious to see the prowess
of the bull directed against another set of
antagonists, expressed their desire by a mono-

190 SPAIN IN 1830.

tonous clapping of hands, and beating of sticks,
a demonstration of their will perfectly under-
stood, and always attended to.

The banderilleros then entered : their busi-
ness is to throw darts into the neck of the
bull ; and in order to do this, they are obliged
to approach with great caution, and to be ready
for a precipitate retreat ; because it sometimes
happens that the bull, irritated by the dart,
disregards the cloak which the banderillero
throws down to cover his retreat, and closely
pursues the aggressor. I saw one banderillero
so closely pursued, that he saved himself only
by leaping over the bull's neck. The danger,
however, is scarcely so great as it appears to
the spectator to be ; because the bull makes
the charge with his eyes shut. The danger
of the picador who is thrown upon the ground,
is much greater ; because, having made the
charge, the bull then opens his eyes, and the
life of the picador is only saved by the address
of the chulos, who divert the attention of the
victor. Generally, the banderilleros do not
make their appearance until the bull appears
by his movements, to declme the combat with
the picadors; which he shews by scraping the

SPAIN IN 1830. 191

ground with his feet, and retiring. If the bull
shew little spirit, and the spectators wish that
he should be goaded into courage, the cry is
"fitego,''' and then the banderilleros are armed
with darts, containing a kind of squib, which
explodes while it sticks in the animal's neck.

When the people are tired of the banderil-
leros, and wish to have a fresh bull, they
signify their impatience in the usual way, and
the signal is then given for the matador, whose
duty it is to kill the bull. The matador is in
full court dress, and carries a scarlet cloak
over his arm, and a sword in his hand : the
former he presents to the bull ; and when the
bull rushes forward, he steps aside and plunges
his sword in the animal's neck ; at least so
he ought to do, but the service is a dangerous
one, and the matador is frequently killed.
Sometimes it is impossible for the matador to
engage upon equal terms a very wary bull,
which is not much exhausted. This was the
case with the sixth bull which 1 saw turned
out : it was an Andalusian bull, and was both
wary and powerful. Many times the matador
attempted to engage him, but witiiout success ;
he was constantly upon the watch, always

192 SPAIN IN 1830.

disregarding the cloak, and turning quick
round upon the matador, who was frequently
in imminent danger. At length the people
were tired of this lengthened combat, and
seeing no prospect of it ending, called for the
semi-luna, an instrument with which a person
skulks behind, and cuts the ham- strings of
the animal : this the bull avoided a long while,
always turning quickly round ; and even after
this cruel operation was performed, he was
still a dangerous antagonist, fighting upon his
knees, and even pursuing the matador. The
moment the bull falls, he is struck with a
small stiletto, which pierces the cerebellum ;
folding doors, opposite to those by which the
bull enters, are thrown open, and three mules,
richly caparisoned and adorned with flags,
gallop in ; the dead bull is attached by a hook
to a chain, and the mules gallop out, trailing
the bull behind them : this is the work of a
moment, — the doors close, — there is a new
flourish of trumpets ; and another bull rushes
upon the arena.

And how do the Spaniards conduct them-
selves during all these scenes? — The intense
interest which they feel in this game is visible

I

SPAIN IN 1830. 193

throughout, and often loudly expressed ; an
astounding shout always accompanies a critical
moment : — whether it be the bull or the man
who is in danger, their joy is excessive ; but their
greatest sympathy is given to the feats of the
bull. If the picador receives the bull gallantly,
and forces him to retreat ; or if the matador
courageously faces, and wounds the bull, they
applaud these acts of science and valour : but
if the bull overthrow the horse and his rider;
or if the matador miss his aim, and the bull
seems ready to gore him, their delight knows
no bounds. And it is certainly a fine spectacle
to see the thousands of spectators rise simul-
taneously, as they always do when the interest
is intense : the greatest and most crowded
theatre in Europe presents nothing half so
imposing as this. But how barbarous, how
brutal is the whole exhibition ! Could an
English audience witness the scenes that are
repeated every week in Madrid ? — a universal
burst of " shame ! " would follow the spectacle
of a horse, gored and bleeding, and actually
treading upon his own entrails, while he gal-
lops round the arena : even the appearance of
the goaded bull could not be borne, — panting,

VOL. I. o

194 SPAIN IN 1830.

covered with wounds and blood, lacerated by
darts, and yet brave and resolute to the end.

The spectacle continued two hours and a
half; and during that time, there were seven
bulls killed, and six horses. When the last
bull was dispatched, the people immediately
rushed into the arena, and the carcass was
dragged out amid the most deafening shouts.

The expenses of the bull-fights are great ;
but the receipts far exceed them, leaving a
very handsome sum for the benefit of the hos-
pital, which, it is said, draws a revenue from
these entertainments of 300,000 reals, (3000/.
sterling). Some persons begin to afiect a
dislike of the bull-fight, but they go to it not-
withstanding ; and I think I may venture to
say, from my own observation, that this na-
tional entertainment is not yet on the decline.
The king occasionally goes ; Don Carlos rare-
ly ; but Don Francis and his wife are generally
to be seen there ; and I noticed, that the
private boxes of the nobility were as well
filled as any other part of the house. On
leaving the amphitheatre, 1 counted forty-
five private carriages in waiting.

A few weeks afterwards, I was present at

SPAIN IN 1830. 195

another bull-fight. I have no intention of
describing this also; but I gathered some in-
formation from it that had escaped me upon
the former occasion. This time, I paid more
attention to the demeanour of the people, than
to the fight ; and instead of securing a place
in the boxes, I took my seat in the commonest
division, that I might the better observe the
character of the lower orders. It is not at all
unusual for those of the nobility who are
amateurs of the bull-fight, to place themselves
among the lowest classes ; a true lover of the
bull-fight likes to be under no restrictions,
but to express his delight as loudly as a pea-
sant. In that place he is at his ease ; he gives
himself up to the full enjoyment of his passion ;
he applauds, he condemns, and gives vent to
his joy like the people that surround him.
This is true happiness to him. It is said that
Don Francis occasionally disguises himself;
and enjoys, even though Infante, the pleasure
of a water-carrier.

At this fight, all the bulls were indifi'erent
excepting one ; but he proved himself a per-
fect master of the science. He rushed first
o 2

196 SPAIN IN 1830.

at one picador and then at the other, and over-
threw both the horses and then' riders; killing
both horses, and wounding one of the pica-
dores. Two fresh picadores immediately ap-
peared ; and these, he served in a precisely
similar way : but the overthrow was more
tragical — one of the horses and his rider were
raised fairly into the air; and the horse falling
so as to crush the rider between its body and
the fence, he was killed upon the spot. The
bull was now master of the arena ; he had
cleared it of men — three horses lay dead — and
he stood in the midst, lashing his tail, and
looking round for another enemy. This was
a time to observe the character of the people.
When the unfortunate picador was killed, in
place of a general exclamation of horror, and
loud expressions of pity, the universal cry was
'' Que es bravo ese totv!" Ah, the admirable
bull ! — the whole scene produced the most un-
bounded delight ; the greater horror, the greater
was the shouting, and the more vehement the
expressions of satisfaction — I did not perceive
a single female avert her head, or betray the
slightest symptom of wounded feeling. Acci-
dents do not occur so frequently as a spec-

SPAIN IN 1830. 197

tator would be apt to imagine : danger is in
fact more apparent than real, because those
who engage the bull are well trained to the com-
bat. There is, both in Madrid and at Seville,
a regular school of instruction, where those
destined for Las Corridas, practise the art
with young animals ; and excepting the mata-
dores, who are occasionally killed, no other of
the combatants runs great risk from the bull.
When the picador is killed, the catastrophe
is always occasioned by the horse falling
upon his rider, or crushing him against the
inclosure.

Every time I attended a bull-fight, I was
more and more impressed with a conviction
of its cruelty and brutality. It is improperly
termed a fight, because the bull has never a
chance of victory and escape ; it is merely
a massacre, — and the series of abominable
cruelties exhibited in the treatment of the
horses, stamps the whole with a character of
brutality and barbarism, sufficient, in my
opinion, to separate Spain from the list of
civilized nations. It is not merely the atro-
cities that an interested contractor for the bull-
fights may permit, — not merely that the pica-

198 SPAIN IN 1830.

dor continues to ride upon an animal bathed
in blood, and whose entrails trail upon the
ground, — but that the Spanish people can
witness and tolerate such barbarity. I do
not wish to seem prejudiced; but I cannot
believe that there are many among the very
lowest ranks in this country who would not,
at such a spectacle, cry out " kill him !" It
was proposed by the present queen to en-
velope the horses in a net, by M'hich the most
disgusting part of the exhibition would have
been concealed ; but this was a refinement
which it was thought would not be relished
by the mob, and I believe it was never at-
tempted. By the horses having no power of
defence, and by their being deprived of the
means of consciousness of their condition, the
cruelty of the spectacle is increased. Towns-
liend, that very respectable and accurate
writer, is in error when he speaks of the cou-
rage shewn by the horses in facing their ene-
mies : this, if true, would give a character of
greater nobility to the entertainment ; but the
horses know neither their enemies nor their
danger; their eyes are blinded, and their ears
are tied up. If the horses were netted round

SPAIN IN 1830. 199

the body, and if they were led off the arena
when wounded ; if their eyes were uncovered,
that when the rider was unhorsed, they might
have a chance of escape, in place of stand-
ing to be gored, unconscious of the vici-
nity of the enemy, — if the semi-luna were
discontinued; — and, above all, if a valiant bull,
which could unhorse two picadores without
being Avounded, and parry two or three thrusts
of the matador, were allowed the reward of
its victory — life : then the bull-fight would
be divested of much of its barbarism, without
losing, but, on the contrary, greatly adding to
the interest which it at present possesses.

It is impossible to witness a spectacle like
this, without being impressed with a convic-
tion that such exhibitions must produce some
influence upon the character of a people. One
would naturally argue that there must be an
affinity between the character of a people and
their amusements, especially since we actually
find this affinity among several savage nations ;
and yet I should be doing gross injustice to
the Spanish character, if I said that any such
affinity existed in Si)ain. There is nothing
of deliberate cruelty in the character of a

200 SPAIN IN 1830.

Spaniard, — less hard-heartedness than I have
found among most other nations: — he invari-
ably treats his mule with the utmost kindness,
he is mindful even of his dog and his cat. The
murders which are so frequent in the south
of Spain, are the result of an irascible temper,
brandy, and a hot climate ; but are never de-
liberate : and the robberies, which originate
in poverty, and which bad laws encourage,
are rarely attended by violence. All this is a
riddle, — nor is it less a riddle, that the females
who can look unmoved, and even with plea-
sure, upon scenes from which a woman of any
other nation turns away disgusted, do not pos-
sess less refinement than the females of other
countries. Generally speaking, the character
of the Spanish woman is kind and compas-
sionate ; and even among the lower ranks, I
have heard sentiments that would do honour
to the women of those countries that are
esteemed the foremost in refinement.

The first attempt at a horse race in Madrid,
was made last autumn ; and as I am upon the
subject of diversions, I shall give a slight
sketch of the Spanish mode of conducting
these things. The ground chosen for the race.

SPAIN IN 1830. 201

was a sandy road, extending from the bridge
of Toledo along the canal. The road is a
common cart road, covered with stones, and
full of ruts ; and the distance was about two
miles. A large concourse of persons was at-
tracted to the spot by the novelty of the enter-
tainment. There were between two and three
hundred horsemen, and upv/ards of twenty
carriages on the ground : among others, the
handsome equipage of the Duke of San Carlos,
the owner of one of the horses, an English
mare, called Pensive. Her only opponent
was a Spanish horse. Pensive was ridden by
a jockey, dressed in the English fashion ; the
horse, by a Spanish groom, in the dress of a
peasant. Pensive was a very indifferent
animal, but had seen better days, and would
have been distanced at a sixth-rate English
race. Before starting, the horses were held
by a man at the head of each, and at a signal,
they were let go. The greatest possible
anxiety was shewn by the spectators, that the
English mare might be beaten ; but it came
in two or three lengths before its opponent.
This created extraordinary disappointment ;
but the crowd resolved that the next heats

202 SPAIN IN 1830.

should be different ; and they carried their
resolution into effect. They, formed an avenue
just wide enough for the horses; and as the
Spanish horse passed, every one struck it with
a stick, a whip, a stone, or whatever was at
hand, and so urged it on ; and partly owing
to this, and partly owing to some carts inter-
cepting the road, the Spanish horse gained
both heats. This triumph was followed by
loud acclamations ; and so intemperate was
the mob in its joy, that the grossest insults
were offered to the carriage of the Duke of
San Carlos as he left the ground. I heard it
reported, that the Duke intended to take the
field again with better horses, and upon better
ground; and that horse races in Madrid would
re-commence at a future time, under the pa-
tronage of one of the Infantes.

CHAPTER VI

MEMOIR OF MURILLO.

A slight sketch of the life of Murillo, will not
be considered an unappropriate introduction
to some notice of his principal works, yet to
be found in the Picture Gallery of Madrid;
and in the churches, convents, and hospitals
of Seville.

EsTABAN Murillo, the prince of painters,
was born at Seville, on the 1st of January,
1618. The small town of Pilm, in Andalusia,
has disputed this honour with Seville ; but
the claim of Pilas to this distinction has pro-
bably arisen from the fact, that his mother
was from Pilas, and that he inherited, through
her, some property in that neighbourhood.
But it is of little importance whether the
courtly Seville, or the lowly Pilas, gave birth

204 SPAIN IN 1830.

to Murillo ; they may feel equally honoured
in his name, for the name of Murillo belongs
to his country. How he acquired the name
of Estaban, has also been matter of dispute :
some say he derived it from his father, who,
it is said, was called Gaspar Estaban Murillo ;
and others are of opinion, that he took the
name of his maternal uncle ; but this dispute
is of even less importance than that respect-
ing the place of his nativity. Neither of the
Estabans are now alive, to claim the honour
of such a name-son ; and Murillo's honours
are independent of his kindred.

Great painters, more than any other class
of eminent men, have given intimation, during
childhood, of the distinction to which they
have afterwards attained ; and if the chroni-
cles and traditions of Murillo record truly, his
infancy did not form an exception. This fact
is not difficult to account for ; because, at the
earliest age, the genius of the painter finds
facilities for displaying itself. The infant
musician to whom nature has denied a vocal
talent, cannot, without an acquaintance with
some instrument, convey a knowledge of his
powers ; still less can the infant poet embody

SPAIN IN 1830. 205

poetic conceptions, without an acquaintance
with language : but the painter finds, every
where around, the means of giving expression
to his thoughts : a dark and a light substance
are all he requires ; and in Spain, where the
walls of the rooms are almost universally
white-washed, the infant Murillo could find
no obstacle to the indulgence of his genius.

The parents of Murillo saw no good likely
to arise from an inclination for daubins: the
walls, and scratching the brick floors ; and
did all that lay in their power to discourage
it ; but the boy knew his calling, and still
continued to disappoint the hopes of his father,
M'ho had destined him for the church ; and to
exhaust the patience of his mother, who, as it
is said, returning one day from mass, found
that her only picture, which she prized highly
— an infant Christ and a lamb — had suffered
an extraordinary transformation. Murillo had
taken the glory from the head of the Christ,
and substituted his own little hat, intending
to represent himself; and the lamb he had
converted into a dog — an animal in which he
took great delight. Murillo was then too
young to be conscious of any impiety in this

206 SPAIN IN 1830.

transformation ; the bent of his mind through
life, was wholly averse from this : but his
parents, despairing of a cure, thought it ad-
visable to let him have his own way, and sent
him to the house of his kinsman, Juan cle Cas-
tillo, who undertook to teach the youthful
Murillo the first principles of design and
colouring.

This Castillo was no despicable hand ;
especially in the art of colouring, for a know-
ledge of which, he was partly indebted to Luis
de Varjas, who had sometime before returned
to Seville from Italy, bringing along with him
the knowledge which he had acquired in
Florence. Besides the youthful Murillo, Cas-
tillo could boast of several other disciples
in his school ; particularly Pedro de Moya, —
of whom, more hereafter, — and Alonzo Cano,
whose freedom of touch, natural design, and
charming colouring, afterwards secured for him
a high rank among Spanish painters. But
Murillo, whdse genius was of still a loftier
kind, soon supplanted his companions in the
favour of his master, by the yet more rapid
progress which he made in the art ; but he
continued, notwithstanding, to discharge the

SPAIN IN 1830. 207

menial offices of grinding the colours, cleaning
the brushes, and preparing the canvas, — such
being the original conditions upon which he
had been admitted into his relation's work-
shop.

There was at this time much rivalry among
the masters in Seville, each of whom had a
school in his own house, — and this rivalry was
fully partaken by their pupils ; for the reputa-
tion of the schools necessarily depended, in
a great measure, upon the proficiency of the
pupils. Murillo felt deeply interested in the
honour of his kinsman's school ; and he, pro-
bably perceiving in his young disciple, a pro-
mise of excellence that might afterwards
reflect honour upon himself, was the more
assiduous in his instructions ; so that, after a
few years, Murillo had well nigh exhausted
the information whicli his master was able to
communicate.

But at this time Castillo suddenly quitted
Seville to reside in Cadiz ; his school was
broken up, and Murillo was left without a
master. It is probable that the most import-
ant moment of his life, — that upon which has
hinged his future character,— was, when feeling

208 SPAIN IN 1830.

the helplessness of his condition, he me-
ditated upon his future prospects, and pre-
sent necessities ; and asked himself that plain
question, which must be put and answered
by all who are situated like him, " What shall
I do?" How much depended upon this re-
solve ! for often has genius been extinguished
because no friendly hand was by, to fan the
flame yet struggling for existence, — often dis-
couraged, by being left to grope its way in
darkness. Some in Murillo's condition, might
have abandoned a profession that held out
no solid advantages ; and others, would have
sought a new master. But Murillo, whether
from a confidence in his own powers, or from
an unwillingness to enter any of those other
schools which had been rivals to Castillo's,
came to a resolution more fortunate for himself
and for the world : he determined to throw
himself upon his own resources, and to trust
in his genius.

It happened, at this time, to be the fair at
Seville, at which season there was always a
demand for devotional pictures, both for the
uses of the pious at home, and for exportation
to America. But these pictures were always

SPAIN IN 1830. 209

of the most wretched description, and painted
by the lowest artists ; and with so much haste,
that it not unusually happened that some
favourite saint was painted during the time
that the devout purchaser bargained for the
price ; nor was it a rare occurrence that the
painter should be required to change a Mag-
dalen into a Madonna ; a Virgin into St. An-
thony of Padua ; or a group of cherubs into
the souls in purgatory. Murillo took his place
in the fair, and painted whatever was required,
at whatever price was offered ; and there can
be little doubt that this varied and rapid prac-
tice gave a freedom to the pencil, and a facility
in the expression of ideas, which years of
study under a master might have failed to
produce.

Murillo had now attained his twenty-third
year ; and at this time a circumstance occurred,
which had an important influence upon his
future career ; this was, the arrival in Seville
of Pedro de Moya. It will be recollected,
that Pedro de Moya was a co-disciple with Mu-
rillo, in the school of Castillo ; but he had, some
years before, and while Murillo was still a
pupil, left it and Seville ; and had subsequently

VOL. I. p

210 SPAIN IN 1830.

gone to Flanders as a soldier, with a greater
disposition to see the world than to paint.
But his natural propensities had only been
suspended by the desire of novelty, so natural
to youth : for meeting in Flanders with the
works of Van Dyk, and other eminent Flemish
masters, he returned to his profession, and
became a disciple of that great painter, under
whom he acquired those graces, with which
he returned to Seville, to excite the admira-
tion and the hopes of Murillo.

Murillo, struck with the improvement of his
former companion, set himself to imitate his
style ; but fortunately for Murillo, who might
otherwise have degenerated into a copyist,
Moya soon quitted Seville, and he was left
to his aspirations and his difficulties. Con-
scious of his own great imperfections, he had
obtained a glimpse of what might be the re-
ward of courage and perseverance ; and his
desires suggested many projects for their gra-
tification. It is a trying, and yet a happy
moment for genius, that in which humility
and pride arise together, bringing with them
the discovery, that the past has been a blank
leaf in existence; but begetting a desire to

SPAIN IN 1830. 21 1

turn over another, and to fill it with things
that shall never be blotted out. Such was,
doubtless, the state of the young painter's
mind, when he resolved upon quitting his
native city, and seeking in Flanders, or Italy,
the opportunities by which he might hope to
realise his dream of fame.

But Murillo was without money, and with-
out friends ; and how could he travel to Flan-
ders or Italy ? His reputation in Seville, as a
painter, was small ; for although his practice
of working for the fair, had in reality increased
his powers, it was little likely to add to his
respectability ; and it was a question, there-
fore, not easily solved, how he should obtain
the means of effecting his design. But even
in this extremity, courage did not desert him ;
and an expedient was found, by which he
might modestly replenish his purse. He pur-
cliased a large piece of canvas; primed it him-
self; and dividing it into unequal parts, painted
upon it, every possible variety of subject, —
saints, landscapes, animals, flowers, — but par-
ticularly devotional pieces. With this trea-
sure, he went to Cadiz, to tempt the masters

p 2

212 SPAIN IN 1830.

of the India vessels. Among so many sub-
jects, the taste of every one could find some-
thing to gratify it, and he returned to Seville
without any of his canvas, and with a little
stock of pistoles.

Murillo did not now delay a moment longer
the execution of his purpose. Communicating
his design only to his brother, who lived at
Seville in the house of an uncle, he left his
native city at the age of twenty-four, to return,
and afterwards enrich it with undying memo-
rials of that genius which is the glory of Spain,
and the just pride of the city where it was
chiefly exercised.

It is a long and toilsome journey from Se-
ville to Madrid ; and many must have been
the anxious thoughts that filled the mind of
the adventurer; but the predominating feeling
would doubtless be buoyant, for youth and
genius are fertile in hope. We think we see
the young painter leave his native town, —
long visible in the majestic tower of the cathe-
dral, at which he often turns round to gaze.
We follow his steps (for his journey was per-
formed on foot) up the banks of the Guadal-
quivir, flowing towards his home ; we see him

SPAIN IN 1830. 213

with his scanty supplies toiling up the defiles
of the Sierra Aloraia, and looking upon the
other side, over the wide plain o{ La Mancha;
and we see him with a quickened step, hasten
towards the capital, when he first descries its
towers in the midst of the desert that sur-
rounds it.

Velasquez was, at this time, first painter to
the king's bed-chamber, and highly esteemed
at the court of Philip IV. ; he was then past
the prime of life, and almost beyond its vicis-
situdes ; and surrounded by friends, and full
of honours, he could feel no jealousy of the
friendless boy who came to him for advice and
protection. Murillo no sooner arrived in
Madrid, than he bethought himself of waiting
upon Velasquez ; and he found in this good
man, and excellent painter, a friend who in-
stantly became his guide; and who never
deserted him, even when the progress of the
pupil seemed to point out a rival of his own
immortality.

Velasquez questioned Murillo as to his fa-
mily, his studies, his knowledge, his motives,
and his wishes ; and, like a true lover of his
art, admiring the spirit and enthusiasm which

214 SPAIN IN 1830.

were disclosed in the answers of Murillo, and
approving the motive of his journey, — and,
doubtless, discovering in his conversation,
tokens by which a man of Velasquez's ex-
perience and knowledge, might draw a pre-
sage of his future greatness, he took the young
painter under his roof as a pupil, a friend, and
a countryman. Murillo did not accept the
hospitality of Velasquez without immediately
proving himself worthy of it. The object of
Ills journey was uppermost in his thoughts ;
and Velasquez, without delay, afforded him
the requisite facilities for prosecuting his de-
sign. He sent him to the different palaces,
and to the convent of the Escurial, that he
might see, and study, the pictures of the great
masters ; and directed him to select such as
he might be ambitious of copying ; and by
this, Velasquez could not fail to obtain farther
insight into the bent of his genius, and would
even be able to judge better of its extent.
What a moment for Murillo, when, entering
the sacristy of the Escurial, he first beheld the
works of Raphael, and Da Vinci, and Titian,
and Paul Veronese !

The three years that followed the arrival of

SPAIN IN 1830. 215

Murillo in Madrid, afford little incident for
the biographer. During these years, he was
no doubt laying the foundation of his future
eminence, by practising his pencil and his
eye among the excellent models to which he
had access ; among whom, no one was a
greater favourite with Murillo than his kind
friend and patron, Velasquez. It is certain,
that he also highly esteemed the genius of
Titian ; and although he adopted no exclu-
sive model, his admiration of that great head
of the Venetian school is discernible in many
of his works.

It appears, however, that Murillo did not
confine himself to the study of these two mas-
ters, but that he also occupied himself with
the works of Van Dyk, and of Rebera (Espa-
noletto) ; for when Velasquez accompanied
the king into Catalunia, Murillo, upon his
return, shewed him three copies from pictures
of Van Dyk, Rebera, and himself. These
were presented to the king; and surprised
equally the court and Velasquez, by their
fidelity, and the excellence of their execution ;
so much so, that Murillo is said to have been

216 SPAIN IN 1830.

advised to occupy himself henceforward with
the works of only these masters.

But the time now approached, when Mu-
rillo should no longer copy the works of
others; but when he should himself become
a model for the imitation of succeeding ages.
At the return of Velasquez from a second
journey, in which he had accompanied the
king to Saragossa, he was so much struck
with the progress of his protegi, that he told
him he could gain nothing more by a resi-
dence in Madrid; and advised him to travel
to Rome, to which city he offered, to furnish
him with letters of recommendation, and other
advantages ; not the least of these, being the
command of his purse.

The true reason of Murillo's rejection of
this advice, it is impossible to ascertain ; but
he had resolved upon returning to his native
city. It has been commonly said, that the
importunities of a brother whom he highly
esteemed, and certain domestic causes, recalled
him: but it seems more probable, that his
determination was the result of an internal
conviction, that he had already accomplished

SPAIN IN 1830. 217

the end for which he left the place of his
nativity : and it is also possible, that a disin-
clination to be a farther debtor for the good
offices of Velasquez, without which he could
not have journeyed into Italy, — may have had
its influence. Velasquez, although not ap-
proving the determination of his young friend,
did not oppose his design ; and Murillo re-
turned to his native city.

It chanced, that at this time the Franciscan
friars desired to have eleven historical pic-
tures, to adorn the Claustro Chico of their con-
vent; but, as the sum to be paid for these, arose
solely from alms which a devout person had
collected for the purpose, it may be supposed
that the painter who might undertake to exe-
cute the order, could not expect a very liberal
remuneration. Accordingly, the principal
painters then in Seville, shewed no great dis-
position to engage in the work ; and the friars,
failing to secure the talents of any of those
who had the reputation of being the first
masters, found themselves obliged to be con-
tented with an inferior hand, and applied to
Murillo, who, being then more needy than his
brethren, willingly undertook the commission,

218 SPAIN IN 1830.

ill which he no doubt perceived other advan-
tages than the paltry remuneration proposed
to him.

No sooner was this order executed, than
Murillo found the reward of his perseverance,
and a repayment of all his anxieties and diffi-
culties. The utmost surprise was excited in
Seville ; he was universally courted ; the per-
formances of his pencil were greedily sought
after; and he at once found himself the ac-
knowledged head of the schools of Seville.
This was indeed an hour of pride for the
friendless artist, who, a few years before, had
cast himself and his fortunes upon the wide
world.

But another reward awaited Murillo, — the
hand of Donna Beatrix de Cabrera y Soto-
mayor, a lady of Pilas, possessing many virtues,
great sweetness of temper, and mistress of a
considerable fortune. Her claims to beauty have
been doubted ; for no picture of her is known to
be extant : the story, however, which is related
respecting the manner in which he won her,
is rather at variance with this supposition. It
is said that Murillo, having occasion to visit
Pilas, on account of some property which had

SPAIN IN 18:50. 219

descended to him in right of his mother, saw
the Donna Beatrix ; and struck with the sweet-
ness of her countenance, and her other graces,
became enamoured of her. Her station in life,
liowever, was higher than his own ; and de-
spairing of a successful issue, he was trying
to efface the impression she had made, when
a circumstance occurred that renewed the re-
collection of her, by suggesting a means of
advancing his suit. He accepted an order to
paint the altar-piece for the church of St.
Geronimo, at Pilas ; and in the countenance
of an angel, he painted that of his mistress.
This delicate gallantry is said to have won the
heart of the Donna Beatrix. The story may,
or may not be true ; but it is chronicled in
Pilas.

From the time of Murillo's marriage, he
appears to have run a constant career of glory ;
advancing in true excellence, and in public
estimation. His style suffered some changes
during this career; but always towards per-
fection; improving in sweetness and delicacy,
and in warmth and richness of colouring. The
earliest celebrated pitture of Murillo, after his
first change in style, was The Conception, for

220 SPAIN IN 1830.

the Franciscan convent ; from the archives of
which, it appears that he received for it the
sum of 2500 reals (25/. sterling) ; a small sum
even in those days ; but it is probable that
Murillo might have taken into consideration,
the reputed poverty of the order ; and this is
the more probable, since shortly after, in 1656,
he painted the great picture of St. Anthony of
Padua, for the baptismal altar of the cathedral
of Seville, for which he received 10,000 reals
(100/. sterling). But the most glorious epoch
in the career of Murillo, was later in life : it
was between 1670 and 1680, that he painted
for the hospital De la Caridad, his Santa Isa-
bella, the Prodigal Son, the Miracle of the
Loaves and Fishes, Moses Striking the Rock,
John of God, and others, that are looked upon
as the most excellent ^of his works. The
twenty-five celebrated pictures also, that adorn
the Capuchin convent in Seville, were the pro-
duction of his ripest genius ; but they were
painted antecedently to the pictures of the
Caridad; and to those who are conversant with
the works of Murillo, there is a still more per-
fect charm in the latter. The highest price
that Murillo appears to have received for any

SPAIN IN 1830. 221

picture, is 15,975 reals, — a little more than
150/. sterling. This he received for the Mira-
cle of the Loaves and Fishes.

In the year 1658, eleven years after his re-
turn to Seville, Murillo projected the establish-
ment of an academy of painting in his native
city. This project was warmly opposed by
many, especially by Herrera, who had newly
returned from Italy, filled with high, and
doubtless just notions, of the greatness of the
Italian schools ; and looking with suspicion
upon a school, whose founder had never tra-
velled beyond Spain. But the genius of Mu-
rillo, at length conquered the prejudices of
Herrera ; and the academy was opened on the
1st of January, 1660, with Murillo at its head,
as first president. It may be mentioned, as
an instance of the painter's modesty, that in
the list of members of the institution, drawn
out by himself, the name of Herrera appears
at the head of the list.

There is one passage in the life of Murillo,
connected, too, with some of the greatest
efforts of his genius, upon which there appears
to hang a mystery. I allude to that period
during which he painted the twenty-five pic-

222 SPAIN IN 18.30.

tures that adorn the Capuchin convent. The
usual version of the story is, that Murillo,
finding himself in some difficulty, took refuge
in the Capuchin convent ; and in return for
the protection afforded him by the monks,
dedicated his talents to the embellishment
of their church. But it is difficult to give
credence to this. Murillo led a blame-
less life ; and ever after his marriage, his
pecuniary circumstances were flourishing.
What, therefore, could be the necessity that
obliged Murillo to take refuge in a convent, it
is impossible to conjecture. At the same
time, it is certain that in that convent there
are twenty-five of Murilio's pictures ; and in
the archives of the convent, there is no record
of any sum having been paid for these. It is
certain, too, that the tradition is steadily
maintained within the convent, that Murillo
was an inmate of it during two years. The
monks even relate little traits of his character
and habits; and a picture of St. John, the
Virgin, and Child, is shewn by them, — painted
upon a table napkin ; and it is certain that the
picture is Murilio's. The only solution of
these difficulties is, that upon the death of his

SPAIN IN 1830. 223

wife, which took place some time previous to
the year 1G70, he retired for a time to the Ca-
puchin convent; for it is impossible to believe
that he was never an inmate of it. The event
which really took place in the life of Herrera
(hermoso) may perhaps have given rise to the
false version of the story of Murillo. Herrera
was forced to take refuge in the church of the
Jesuits at Seville ; and his genius has adorned
its walls.

I must not omit the mention of an anecdote
that is generally related of Murillo. At the
time that he lived near the church of Santa
Cruz, it contained, in one of its chapels,
the well-known '' Descent from the Cross,"
by Pedro Campana, now adorning one of the
altars in the cathedral. It is said that Mu-
rillo was accustomed to spend much of his
time in that church, in admiration of this
painting ; and that one day, the Sacristan
being about to close the gates, and finding
Murillo there, asked him what detained him
so long in tliat chapel ; to which Murillo is
said to have answered, " Estoij espcramlo que
cstos santos varones acabcn de baxar at Scfior dc
la Craz.'" — I am waiting until these holy men

224 SPAIN IN 1830.

take down the Lord from the Cross ; — a com-
pliment, perhaps, scarcely merited by the
picture of Campaiia, and therefore probably
never paid by Murillo.

The last picture that engaged the hand of
Murillo, was one which he undertook for the
Altar Mayor of the Capuchin convent at Cadiz.
This was in the latter end of the year 1681 ;
but he did not live to complete the work.
While engaged upon this picture, he fell from
the scaffold, and was so much injured, as to
be obliged to return to Seville. But the shock
he had received, aided by declining years, pro-
duced disease ; and his illness increased until
the evening of the third day of April in the
following year, when he expired in the arms
of his friend and disciple, Don Pedro Nunez de
Villavicencio.

From the will of Murillo, preserved in the
Franciscan convent of Seville, it appears that
he left little property besides that which he
acquired by his marriage. This was be-
queathed to his sons ; for his only daughter
had taken the veil early in life. In this will,
there is also contained an inventory of his
pictures, among which one of himself is men-

SPAIN IN 1830. 225

tioned. This picture, now in the possession
of Mr. Williams, of Seville, represents Murillo
about the age of thirty, nearly the time of his
marriage, and conveys a very pleasing idea of
the appearance and character of the painter.
The proprietor, himself an excellent artist,
and an intelligent man, has made a masterly
drawing from the original : the drawing is in
the possession of Mr. Brackenbury, his Bri-
tannic majesty's consul at Cadiz; and from
that gentleman's admiration of Murillo, it may
be hoped, that an engraving from it may soon
enable every admirer of that illustrious man
to have the gratification of possessing his
likeness.

The character of Murillo, as a painter, can
scarcely be separated from his character as a
man: humility, kindness, benevolence, were
conspicuous in him; and these are also seen
in the choice of his subjects. Undoubtedly
one of the greatest among the many charms
of Murillo, consists in the beauty of his inven-
tion; his subjects seldom fail to interest the
benevolent feelings: we have affection in all
its varieties — charity under its many forms;

VOL. I. Q

226 SPAIN IN 1830.

and even in subjects purely divine, he con-
trives to throw over them a human interest.
Never was affection more touchingly deli-
neated, than in the picture of St. Felix, the
Virgin, and Child, in the Capuchin convent
of Seville; in which the virgin, after having
put the infant into the arms of the holy man,
that he might bless him, — stretches out her
own, that he may be restored to a mother's
embrace. Nor were ever love and benevo-
lence more beautifully blended, than in the
picture of '' Santa Isabella, Queen of Portu-
gal, curing the sick and wounded," wherein
the old woman watches, with a mother's
anxiety, the cure of her wounded son. And
where shall we find charity, and its reward —
the favour of Heaven — more impressively dis-
played, or more powerfully conceived, than in
the picture of " John of God." This has al-
ways seemed to me, one of the happiest illus-
trations of the genius of Murillo. '*John of
God" is supposed to have gone, as was his
usual practice during the night, to seek and
succour objects of distress. The picture re-
presents the Saint, carrying on his back a
wretched being, whom he had found in his

SPAIN IN 1830. 227

walk, and bending under the weight of his
burden; but suddenly, feeling himself relieved
of a part of his load, he looks round, and sees
by the miraculous light that encircles his hea-
venly visitant, that an angel has descended, to
assist him in his work of charity.

Innumerable examples might be given from
the works of Murillo, of that peculiar charm
which consists in investing spiritual subjects
with a human interest. Murillo never painted
a virgin and child without blending a mother's
human love, and the pride of a mother in
her human child, with the expression of
divinity, and with the loftier pride of having
given birth to the Son of God. Nor in any
representation of scenes in the life of Christ,
did Murillo ever forget to unite the human
with the divine character. In the great paint-
ing, also, of '* Moses striking the Rock," in
the Hospital de la Caridad, there is a fine ex-
emplification of the excellence of which I have
been speaking. This miracle is not made a
mere display of power ; Murillo has intro-
duced into it many varieties of human feeling
—the anxiety of those who wait for the ac-

(i2

228 SPAIN IN 1830.

complishmeiit of the miracle — the burning
impatience, and eager importunities of thirst,
and its contrasted satisfaction.

This peculiar charm of Murillo, consisting
in his choice of subjects, has made him a
painter for all men ; for all, at least, who have
human emotions to be excited, and human
affections to be touched. But this is only one
excellence of Murillo; and standing apart from
others, it might belong to any man of bene-
volence and fine imagination, however indif-
ferent a painter he might be. Murillo possesses,
besides, that rare union of high qualities, some
of them pre-eminently his own, which has
made him one of the first of painters in the eye
of the learned, and of all those who have loved
and studied the divine art.

The most striking excellence in the concep-
tion of Murillo's figures is Nature, accom-
panied by Grace; but never, as in some of the
Italian masters, grace running into affectation :
— and what is there to desire more in the
conception of a picture, than perfect nature
and perfect grace, without any alloy of affec-
tation? In the combination of these excel-
lences, Titian, among all the Italian masters,

SPAIN IN 1830. 229

most nearly resembles Murillo ; but if a pic-
ture of this eminent master be placed beside
a picture of Murillo, executed in his ripest
years, the former appears feebler ; this is pro-
bably owing to the unapproachable excellence
of Murillo's colouring, which combines the
brilliancy of the Flemish, with the truth of
the Venetian. Looking at the greatest efforts
of Murillo's pencil, there seems nothing left
to desire. An invention noble and touching ;
a conception natural and graceful ; a compo-
sition just, elegant, correct ; a colouring rich
and true ; and over all a delicacy, a spiritu-
ality, a beauty, — arising from the blending of
the whole, — that leave the mind satisfied, but
which never satiate the eye.

There are few painters so difficult to copy
as Murillo; although, perhaps, few masters
have had more copies attributed to them. The
greater number of these are said to be pictures
in Murillo's early style ; but the colouring
may always be detected; for it is that which
constitutes the chief difficulty to him who de-
sires to copy this master. The Italian masters
are, almost without exception, easier to copy
than Murillo, because their colouring is more

230 SPAIN IN 1830.

simple. Murillo's colouring, although appear-
ing simple, is extremely artful ; and this the
copyist speedily discovers. Many pictures
of the Italian schools convey an idea of a
marbly surface ; but the pictures of Murillo,
executed at the epoch of his greatest excel-
lence, convey the idea of flesh and blood.
This effect cannot be produced by one colour,
or one lay of colours ; nor even in perfection
by the glazing, of which Titian used to avail
himself : the effect is produced by one colour
shining through another ; and by the skilful
use of these, Murillo has often given to his
ground, or back colour, the effect of air, in
place of an opaque body ; and the artist who
attempts to imitate Murillo by a mixture of
colours, will find it impossible to equal the
effect of the original.

It is a common idea, that in Spain, the
pictures of Murillo are scarce ; and that the
galleries, churches, and convents, have been
despoiled of their greatest treasures. This
idea is very erroneous. Spain has, no doubt,
been robbed of some of her choicest paintings,
and some have found their way into other
countries as objects of traffic ; but the Penin-

SPAIN IN 1830. 231

sula is still rich in the works of Murillo. In
the gallery of Madrid, of which I shall pre-
sently speak, there are thirty pictures of Mu-
rillo's, two-thirds of them at least, undoubted
originals. In the Cabinet of Natural History,
three of the greatest productions of his pencil
are found. In private collections in Madrid,
particularly in those of the Duke of Medina
Cceli, the Duke of Liria, Sir John Meade,
and some other individuals, there may be
nearly an equal number. In Seville, the
twenty-five pictures painted for the Capuchin
convent, are all in their places. In the hospi-
tal de la Caridad, there are four of Murillo's
greatest productions. The collection of Mr.
Williams of Seville, is distinguished by twelve
Murillos; and in other private houses in
Seville, perhaps as many more may be found.
In the cathedral there are six or eight; and
in Cadiz, in the possession of Mr. Brackenbury
— in Murcia,— and particularly in Valencia,
Murillos may be discovered by any lover of
the fine arts, whose inquiries are directed
towards that object.

The present government of Spain watches
over the works of Murillo with a jealousy, that

232 SPAIN IN 1830.

is not shewn in any thing else that concerns
the prosperity or the honour of the country.
By a late government order, the works of Mu-
rillo are prevented from leaving Spain ; but as
bribery is able to conquer many difficulties in
that country, the exportation of pictures is not
impossible.

CHAPTER VII

MADRID.

The Picture Gallery ; the Works of Murillo ; the Annunciation ;
the Virgin instructed by her Mother ; Landscapes ; Velas-
quez and his Works ; Meeting of Bacchanalians; the Forges
of Vulcan ; Espanoletto, and his Works ; Villavicencio ;
Juanes ; Alonzo Cano ; Cerezo ; Morales ; Juanes' Last Sup-
per; the Modern Spanisli School; Aparicio ; the Famine
in Madrid; Itahan Gallery ; Flemish School ; the Sola Reser-
vada; Statuary; Cabinet of Natural History; Sola Reser-
vada ; the Patrician's Dream; the Desengano de la Jlda ;
Private Collections; the Duke of Liria's Gallery; Churches
and Convents ; Church of San Isodro ; San Salvador ; Santa
Maria; SanGines; Santiago; San Antonio de Florida; Con-
vent of Las Salesas ; de la Kncarnation ; the Franciscans ;
Santa Isabella; Hidden Pictures; San Pasqual ; Santa Te-
resa ; the Palace.

Since the erection of the splendid building
dedicated to the reception of pictures, most of
those which formerly adorned the palaces,
have been transferred to it ; and Madrid can

234 SPAIN IN 1830.

now boast of a gallery equal in extent, and
perhaps little inferior in excellence, to any of
the other great galleries in Europe. To the
lover of the Spanish school, the gallery of
Madrid possesses attractions which no other
can offer. Besides forty-two pictures of Mu-
rillo, it contains fifty-five of Velasquez, twenty-
nine of Espaholetto, seventeen of Juanes,
six of Alonzo Cano, and many of Ribalta,
Cerezo, Villavicencio, Moralez, &c. ; other
saloons contain between four and five hundred
pictures of the Italian schools, and about three
hundred of the Flemish school ; and in the
Sala Reservada, there are several dief (Tceiwres
of Titian and Rubens. At present, I return to
the Spanish school, to notice first, a few of the
most distinguished works of Murillo.

The first we remark is ** A Holy Family," a
picture taken away by the French, and after-
wards restored. The invention in this picture
is in the highest degree original : we have not
a mere uninteresting group ; but life and feel-
ing. The infant Jesus — Jesus, but yet a human
child — holds a bird in his hand, which he
raises above his head, to save the little fa-
vourite from a dog that tries to seize it : Saint

SPAIN IN 1830. 235

Joseph holds the child between his knees ;
and the Virgin, who is engaged in some female
employment, lays aside her work, that she
may admire the playfulness of her son. This
picture is admirably suited for shewing Mu-
rillo's chaste and charming conception of
female heads and children.

Passing over "An Infant Christ," ''A John
Baptist," and "The Conversion of St. Paul,"
all three, but especially the second, admirable
pictures, the next strikingly fine work of Mu-
rillo's is "The Annunciation." This is con-
sidered, and with justice, a very finished com-
position. The angel Gabriel announces his
heavenly message while the Virgin is reading;
and in her countenance, as she turns to hear
the announcement of Divine will, Murillo has
happily displayed the blending of human sur-
prise, with the sudden illumination of divinity
that fills her mind.

A " Mother of Griefs," and a " Magdalen
Seated in the Desert," the latter, a picture in
Murillo's best style of colouring, might be
next named ; but I pass to " The Martyr-
dom of the Apostle St. Andrew," which may
vie with the most celebrated pictures of this

236 SPAIN IN 1S.30.

master. While the Saint is extended on the
cross, the heavens open and the seraphim de-
scend, bearing the palm branch and the crown
of martyrdom. The blaze of celestial light
which shines upon the martyr, and its contrast
with the chiaro sciiro, are unrivalled in their
effect. In the design and conception too,
there is great beauty of thought, particularly
in illuminating the martyr with the same
celestial light that encircles the heavenly
hierarchy.

" The Adoration of the Shepherds," and the
" Infant Jesus and St. John," are both worthy
of an eulogium ; the one for its force and har-
mony of colouring, the other for its charming
simplicity. But one more beautiful than these
is " the Virgin receiving a Lesson in Reading
from her mother, Saint Anne." This possesses
in a peculiar degree, Murillo's excellences of
nature and grace. It is all human, as it ought
to be ; and the divine calling of the Virgin is
only known by two heavenly cherubs hovering
above, and dropping a crown of roses upon the
head of the unconscious child.

Besides these more striking pictures of
Murillo, there are several others of great merit.

SPAIN IN 1830. 237

" Eliezar and Rebecca," two or three "Con-
ceptions," heads of St. Paul and of John the
Baptist, the Vision of St. Bernard, and two
landscapes. The landscapes of Murillo are at
least curious. His proficiency in this depart-
ment was probably acquired in his early years,
when, at the fair of Seville, he painted what-
ever his customers demanded.

** A Gipsy and a Spinster," also in the gal-
lery, are specimens of that other class of
pictures by which Murillo is known to many
who have not been in Spain. These pictures
being smaller, and not preserved by the
jealousy of the convents, more easily find their
way into other countries ; accordingly, in this
style, we find some of the choicest morsels of
Murillo in foreign galleries ; in Munich, in the
Dulwich gallery, and elsewhere.

This slight enumeration affords but a very
imperfect glimpse of the pleasure which the
admirer of Murillo will find in the gallery of
Madrid ; but in other collections, and espe-
cially in Seville, I shall have occasion to re-
turn to the works of this head of the Spanish
schools ; and at present I must proceed to

238 SPAIN IN 1830.

notice briefly the pictures of Velasquez, and
others, in the Madrid gallery.

Velasquez, the worthy rival, and, in many
points, the equal of Murillo, whose master he
was, differs in many respects from his pupil.
He studied in Italy; and there acquired that
knowledge of the antique, which is by some
esteemed above the greater simplicity and
unaffected grace that distinguish the works of
Murillo. In Velasquez, thought and invention
are not so spiritual as in his pupil, but his com-
position is more learned ; and in his colouring,
he is not excelled even by Titian. His colours
often disappear under his brush, because they
become in reality the thing which he desires
them to represent.

One of, but not the most extraordinary com-
position of Velasquez in the Madrid gallery, is
" A Meeting of Bacchanalians." One in the
midst of his companions, is seated across a
barrel, which is his throne; he is crowned
with vine-leaves, and presents a similar crown
to another, who receives, with a kind of mock
respect, this order of knighthood. There is
extraordinary truth in this picture ; in fact.

SPAIN IN 1830. 239

the painter makes the spectator one of the
party; he laughs in spite of himself, and
almost feels as if he too had drained some
bowls to the memory of Bacchus.

'' The Infanta Margaritta-Mary of Austria,"
is one of the most splendid compositions of
Velasquez. Velasquez is himself represented
with his pallet and brushes, painting the In-
fanta; and to distract the attention of the
infant princess from the portrait, two dwarfs,
and her favourite dog, are made to enter the
apartment. This picture, in composition, de-
sign, and colouring, is absolutely perfect.

Several portraits of Philip the Fourth, the
friend and patron of Velasquez,— particularly
one upon horseback, — and one exquisite por-
trait of the Duque de Olivares, his prime
minister, deserve the highest eulogium : a mag-
nificent portrait also, which has obtained the
appellation of " Esop ;" " a Suitor for a Place,"
who, in a garment of worn-out black, presents
his memorial ; a portrait of a *' Dwarf and a
Great Dog," the " Surrender of the Town of
Breda," and a " Manufactory of Tapestry," in
which the painter has introduced a charming-
female countenance, are all excellent in their

240 SPAIN IN 1830.

kind ; but the most striking of all the pictures
of Velasquez in this gallery is, The Forges of
Vulcan. The god of fire is at his forge, sur-
rounded by his Cyclopes, when Apollo brings
him intelligence of his wife's dishonour, and
his own. The attitude and expression of
Vulcan, are in Velasquez most powerful
manner. He turns round as if scarcely cre-
diting the message of infamy ; but his dark
countenance, which seems to grow darker as
the spectator looks upon it, expresses that jea-
lousy has taken possession of him ; his ham-
mer rests idle in his hand, and the Cyclopes,
also, suspend their work to listen. The scene
is the more striking from the true and brilliant
colouring; the red light falling upon the group,
and contrasting with the darkness of the sub-
terranean world beyond. It is a pity that
such a picture should contain any striking
fault; and yet it is impossible to avoid per-
ceiving that the Apollo is weakly conceived.

I have not even named the titles of the
greater number of Velasquez pictures ; but
these few, although not better painted than
many others, are more striking, owing to their
subjects. The lover of portraits also, will

SPAIN IN 1830. 241

find ample gratification in the many excellent
works of this master, which adorn the gallery
of Madrid.

Of the works of Esparioletto, the Madrid
gallery contains several chef cCoeiwres. This
painter was born near Valencia, in the year
1589; he was first the pupil of Ribalta, and
afterwards, at Rome, of Caravaggioo The
style of Esparioletto is, perhaps, more than
any other painter, opposed to that of Murillo.
Simplicity, and the graces of nature, are no
where to be found in his works, which are
forcible, — often verging upon the terrible ; and
whose object seems to be, rather to seize the
imagination than to touch the heart. But the
painting of Esparioletto, after he had seen the
productions of Correggio, lost much of that
exaggerated manner which the lessons of Ca-
ravaggio had taught him ; and in his later
styles, he has produced pictures which unite
force with many other excellences. Among
the best of this master's works in the Madrid
gallery are, St. Peter the Apostle weeping for
his sins ; in which the design, the composition,
and the colouring, are all excellent; — Jacob's

VOL. I. R

242 SPAIN IN 1830.

Ladder, in which the author shews that he
has profited by a study of the works of Cor-
reggio;^ — '* The head of a Priest of Bacchus,"
full of character and vigour; — and " Saint Se-
bastian," in the last and best manner of the
painter. Besides these pictures, there are
many in the author's first exaggerated style ;
such as " Prometheus bound," ''a Magdalen in
the Desert," and " Christ in the Bosom of the
Eternal ; " which, if not pleasing, are at least
interesting, as contrasts with the improved
style of Espanoletto's later compositions.

There are still other pictures in the gallery
which must not be passed over ; but I shall
not classify them. '* Children Playing at
Dice," by Villavicencio, the disciple of Mu-
rillo, and in whose arms he died ; — a picture
full of nature and naivete, and charmingly
coloured.

"The Visitation of Saint Elizabeth," by
Juanes. Juanes is, undoubtedly, one of the
greatest of the Spanish painters after Murillo
and Velasquez ; and this, as well as others of
his compositions, is entitled to rank imme-
diately after the works of these two masters.

*' Saint John the Evangelist writing the

SPAIN IN 1830. 243

Revelations in the Isle of Patmos," by Alonzo
Cano.

A "St. Francis in ecstasy," by Cerezo, who
was an excellent painter ; and who, in design
and colouring, sometimes approached Van Dyk.

" The Virgin and the Infant Jesus." By
Morales, sometimes called '* The divine."

An incomparable " Head of Christ, crowned
with Thorns," by Juanes.

" A Dead Christ," by Alonzo Cano.

" A St. Francis," by Ribalta.

*' The Entombment of St. Etienne, ' by
Juanes, a picture which partakes largely of
the graces that distinguish the school of
Raphael and his followers.

" The Supper," by Juanes. This is con-
sidered the chef (Voeuvre of the author, and was
taken by the French, and afterwards restored.
Love and devotion have seldom been more
beautifully painted than in this picture.

" Jesus Interrogated by the Pharisees,
touching the Tribute," by Arias.

A saloon is dedicated to the modern Spanish
school ; containing the pictures both of the
living masters, and of those who have lived
within the last forty or fifty years. It is im-

R 2

244 SPAIN IN 1830

possible to look upon these pictures without
feeling more and more the excellences of those
painters, who now live only in their works ;
for in the modern Spanish school, there is little
to remind us of Murillo and Velasquez ; or
even of Juanes, Cano, or Morales. Difficult as
it must be admitted to be, to imitate the unap-
proachable excellences of Murillo, it is sur-
prising nevertheless, that the attempt to do this
should scarcely ever be made. After the death
of Murillo, as well as during his lifetime, there
were innumerable artists, who, although con-
scious of the immeasurable distance at which
they followed, yet, thought it wisdom pa-
tiently to seek the traces of his footsteps : and
it is a merit of no ordinary kind, if a painter
can earn the character of being a follower of
Murillo ; because this at least proves, that he
is able to appreciate, even if he cannot ap-
proach, his excellences. But in looking
through the gallery of the modern school, not
one picture can be found, of which it may be
said, "this is in the style of Murillo."

Aparicio and Lopez are the painters who at
present enjoy the highest reputation ; but
neither of these will suffer a comparison with

SPAIN IN 1830. 245

Bayeu, who died thirty-five years ago, or with
Goya, who has long since retired from a pro-
fessional life, but who still lives at Bourdeaux.
As little can the pictures of Bayeu or Goya
be compared with the compositions of the
ancient school.

The two great pictures of Aparicio are,
'' The Glories of Spain," and " The Famine
in Madrid," — and both are more in the style
of the modern French, than of the ancient
Spanish school. The latter of these is intended
to represent (as the author of it says), " The
Triumph of Spanish Constancy." During the
time of the French invasion, in the winter of
1811-12, the famine that raged in Madrid,
almost realized what we read, of ancient Nu-
mantia ; and many examples of heroic patriot-
ism are recorded of this time. The painter
has chosen the following : — an old man, ex-
tenuated, and apparently dying, is stretched
upon the ground ; and the dead bodies of his
daughter, and his grandson are at his feet :
three French soldiers passing by, touched with
compassion, offer him food ; but he, disdaining
to accept food from the enemies of his country,
covers his face with his hands, that he may

246 SPAIN IN 1830.

not be temjDted, and prefers death to what he
considers dishonour.

The subject is undoubtedly fine, and the
picture has many merits ; but it is impossi-
ble, in looking at any picture, the moral of
which is intended to convey an abhorrence of
French dominion in Spain, not to feel that we
cannot give our sympathy to it ; and the same
feeling has led me, in walking over those fields
of battle that have been fields of glory for
England and Spain, to ask ''where are the
fruits"? They are nowhere to be found : the
purchase-money was the blood and treasure
of England : and what did they purchase ? —
the deeper degradation of Spain.

That part of the gallery which is appro-
priated to the Italian schools, 1 shall pass
over almost without notice; not because there
is nothing in it worthy of being mentioned,
but because I could hope to add nothing to
what is already universally known of the cha-
racter of the great Italian masters. In the
Italian saloons, there are many copies, and
many re-touched pictures ; but there are also
a considerable number of sterling composi-
tions. Guido, Andrea del Sarto, Giordano,

SPAIN IN 1830. 247

Guercino, Leonardo da Vinci, Bassano, Alex-
ander Veronese, Sachi, Salvator Rosa, Tinto-
retto, Titian, and Raphael, all contribute of
their abundance. The most remarkable of
these pictures, is the portrait of Mona Lisa,
a lady of incomparable beauty, and the wife
of Francisco Giocondo, a gentleman of Flo-
rence. This picture cost 180,000 reals.

In the saloon dedicated to the Flemish,
German, and French schools, there are also
some fine originals ; particularly, two Claudes;
a Bacchanalian piece, of Nicholas Poussin,
remarkable for the excellence of its desisfn,
and its inimitable harmony ; " David and
Goliah," also by N. Poussin; and "The
Adoration of the Angels and the Shepherds,"
by Mengs.

To be admitted to the Sala Reservada, re-
quires an order from the Director of the insti-
tution ; but this is always politely given upon
application. In passing to the Sala Reser-
vada, the visitor is conducted through a large
apartment, in which a picture of the King's
landing at Cadiz occupies one of the walls.
The painting contains upwards of twenty
figures as large as life, — all portraits : this

248 SPAIN IN 1830.

room is a favourite lounge of his majesty, who,
it is said, contemplates with much compla-
cency, the picture that records his restoration.
In this Hall, the attention is speedily with-
drawn from the picture, by two tables, that
well merit admiration. At a little distance,
they appear like exquisite flower-pieces, paint-
ed on glass, — but upon approaching, you dis-
cover that they are of marble ; the ground
black, and the flowers Mosaic. Upwards of
eighty diff'erent flowers are represented : and,
among the marbles of Spain and her late colo-
nies, is found every variety of colour necessary
to give perfect truth to the representation.

In the Sala Reservada are two " Sleeping
Venuses," by Titian, both too good to be seen
by every one ; " Adam and Eve," by Rubens;
and eight other pictures, by the same master.
An excellent Tintoretto, "Andromeda and Per-
seus, '^ by Titian; "The Three Graces," by
Albano ; and two delightful compositions of
Breughel, in which trees, flowers, nymphs,
and fountains, are charmingly mingled.

In the Hall of Statuary, I found tables quite
equal in workmanship to those in the king's
apartment, but in value, far exceeding them.

SPAIN IN 18;50. 249

One represented a landscape, another a ma-
rine view — and the effect was produced, not
merely by marbles, but also by innumerable
precious stones, especially emeralds and sap-
phires ; these tables were executed by a
Spanish workman, about fifty years ago.
Several good statues adorn the Hall; and it
seems to me, that the state of modern sculp-
ture in Spain, is more promising than that of
its painting. A "Venus," by Alvarez, and
another, by Gines, are both excellent. There
is also, connected with this Hall, a workshop,
called the Hall of Restoration ; there, many
artists were employed in repairing the ravages
of time. Venuses lay on the ground without
arms; and Graces without noses. An Apollo
was getting fitted with a new foot; and a
Calliope with another knee.

There are two public days in the week, upon
which all have access to the galleries ; but I
had permission to go at any time, and very
frequently availed myself of it ; most fre-
quently upon the days that were not public.
I generally saw a considerable number of
artists engaged in copying ; and all, in the
galleries allotted to the Italian masters. Op-

250 SPAIN IN 1830.

portunity must not be confounded with en-
couragement. The artists of Spain have suffi-
cient opportunities, but there is no encourage-
ment ; and both are needed, that the fine arts
in a country may be flourishing. Spain, as
well as Italy, produced her great painters
when the art was considered necessary, and
was therefore encouraged ; when the adorn-
ment of the temples of religion was deemed
essential ; and when the different orders of
friars, perceiving the effect of externals upon
the minds of the people, vied with each other
in multiplying these helps to devotion.

Another building, dedicated to the recep-
tion of works both of nature and of art, is the
Cabinet of Natural History. The public gal-
leries are allotted to mineralogy chiefly ; in
which department, the specimens are nu-
merous, and many of them fine. I particu-
larly remarked the very fine specimens of
native gold ; but above all, the extraordinary
number and beauty of the precious stones, in
which, I believe, the cabinet of Madrid excels
every other in Europe. I noticed nearly forty
emeralds upon one piece of rock, many of
them of great size, and almost all of the purest

SPAIN IN 18.30. 251

quality. The specimens of crystal and of sul-
phur are also numerous and fine ; but the
native marbles are perhaps the most interest-
ing of all. I counted no fev/er than two hun-
dred and seven different kinds. Other saloons
in the building are appropriated to Conchology
and Zoology, in which the most perfect de-
partment is considered to be that of the But-
terflies.

But the Salas Reservadas are more interest-
ing than the public rooms. One of the Salas
is entirely filled with precious stones, and
vessels made of them ; it would almost fill a
volume to enumerate the riches contained in
this Hall. In the lower part of the building,
also a Sala Reservada, is the Hall of Pictures ;
and here are preserved some of the choicest
specimens of Murillo's pencil. I could not
understand why these, and other pictures in
this Hall, are not deposited in the great pic-
ture gallery ; the more exquisite they are, the
better reason there seems to be for increasing
the facilities for seeing them, — especially as
there is nothing in any of these pictures im-
proper to meet the public eye; the only excu.se
for a Sala Reservada.

252 SPAIN IN 1830.

Among the paintings here, is that exquisite
one of Murillo, " Santa Isabella Queen of Por-
tugal, curing the sick and wounded," which I
have already noticed in the memoir of Mu-
rillo. Another in this Hall, which ranks
among the highest of Murillo's productions,
and which is less known than some others of
his works, is '* the Patrician's Dream." A
Roman noble asleep, is supposed to have a
vision, in which a celestial message commands
the building of a temple. The Patrician is
seen buried in deep sleep, and an angel is
near, pointing to a single column. The co-
louring in this picture is exquisite ; and a
spirit of the most perfect repose is thrown over
the whole composition. In the same Hall hangs
the companion to this picture, in which the
Patrician is seen recounting his dream to the
Pope.

A " Mary Magdalen Penitent," by Murillo,
and a "St. Geronimo," by Espaiioletto, are
also found here ; but one of the most extraor-
dinary pictures I have seen in Spain, is pre-
served in this Sola; it is by Antonio dePereda,
and is called " the Desengaiio de la Vida,"
which cannot be literally translated into Eng-

SPAIN IN 1830. 253

lish, but which means ** the Discovery that Life
is an Imposture." A Caballero, about thirty
years of age, handsome and graceful, is repre-
sented asleep, and around him are seen all those
things in which he has found enjoyment. Upon
one table lie heaps of gold, books, globes, and
implements of study ; upon another are the
wrecks of a feast ; musical instruments are
scattered here and there ; magnificent mirrors
and paintings adorn the walls ; and on the
floor lies a jewel-box, which has dropped from
the hand that hangs over the couch where he
reclines ; and a miniature of a beautiful woman
has fallen out of it. But in the air, opposite
to the sleeper, is seen the vision of an angel,
who holds a scroll, with certain words in-
scribed upon it, which the painter has left for
the imagination to decipher, and which may
be naturally interpreted, " Let all pass, —
eternity lies beyond ;" and the countenance of
the sleeping figure shews not only that he sees
a vision, — but there is something in it so placid,
so resigned, that it seems to express an acqui-
escence in the advice of the angel, — '* Yes, it is
all a cheat."

I have perhaps dwelt too long upon this

254 SPAIN IN 1830.

picture ; but I was strongly impressed with its
excellence, both in design and execution.

There are few private collections of great
value in Madrid. Those of the Duke of Liria,
and of the Duke of Medina Coeli, are the best.
The former of these collections adjoins the
duke's palace in the Plaza de Liria; and having
carried an introductory letter to his Grace from
the Marquesa de Montemar, the duke did me
honour to accompany me round the gallery.
I found three good Murillos, — " St, Roch,"
*' Santa Teresa," and "Murillo's Son,"— the
latter only in his best style ; several pictures,
which may or may not be Salvator Rosa's;
but generally believed to be originals ; two of
Rubens: a ''Battle of the Amazons;" and
"Ruben's Wives," — the latter in his best man-
ner; "Adam and Eve chased out of Para-
dise," by Paul Veronese, in all the grace and
sweetness of that esteemed master ; " A Holy
Family," by Gaspar Poussin ; three land-
scapes, by Nicholas Poussin ; a charming
portrait of Mengs, by himself; two or three
delightful gems of Berghem, full of beauty
and repose ; three Titians, " A Holy Family,"
the female head singularly beautiful ; " St.

SPAIN IN 1830. 255

John in the Wilderness," a picture of great
richness and finish ; and " A Boy playing*
with a Lion;" a "Venus," by Brencino; two
Canalettos, but neither of them in his best
style ; " The Children of Velasquez," by Ve-
lasquez ; and " A Holy Family," by Perucini,
the well known eleve of Raphael, — for which
the present possessor paid 10,000 sequins.

The Duke of Liria's gallery also contains
some statuary ; a Venus, by Alvarez, the
Spanish Canova ; and the Mother of the Duke
by the same sculptor. The Duke of Liria,
although not himself a great connoisseur in
the fine arts, is their liberal patron, which is
better. The chapel in the Duke's house con-
tains some good fresco, by Antonio Callione
de Torino, a very promising Spanish painter,
but who, by his bad conduct, was forced to
exile himself, and who lately died in France.

The collection of ancient armour in the re-
sidence of the Duke of Medina Ccela, is more
interesting than his pictures. It contains,
among other things, the armour of Gonsalva
de Cordova. The Duke of Medina Coeli pos-
sesses immense revenues ; but, like the greater
number of the grandees in Spain, he is en-

256 SPAIN IN 1830.

cumbered with debt, being robbed by those
to whom he has delegated the management of
his property. It is a certain fact, that several
of the Spanish nobles whose property lies in
Andalusia, and other southern provinces, have
never seen their own estates.

The lover of pictures will be disappointed
in his search among the churches and con-
vents of Madrid. The collegiate church of
San Isidro contains the greatest number ; but
they are not of first-rate excellence ; and this
church, as well as all the others in Madrid,
are so dark, that it is impossible to obtain a
proper view of any thing which they contain.
The church of San Isidro is not worthy of
being the metropolitan church. The interior
is in the ornate taste of the Jesuits, to whom
it formerly belonged ; but it has taken a higher
rank since the real body of the patron saint
of Madrid, and the ashes of Santa Maria de la
Cabeza, have been deposited within its walls.
There are, however, some pictures in this
church which, with a favourable light, are worth
visiting. Among the best are " the Conver-
sion of St. Paul," and " San Francisco Xavier
baptizing the Indians," by Jordan ; a Christ,

SPAIN IN 1830. 257

by Morales ; another Baptism of the Indians,
by Jordan ; and several others of Cano, Coello,
and Palomino. In one of the chapels are two
urns, wherein are deposited the ashes of Ve-
larde y Daoiz, and the other victims of the
2d of May, 1808, in memory, as it is recorded,
of *' the glorious insurrection of Spain."

The church of San Salvador is only interest-
ing as containing the tomb of Calderon ; that
of Santa Maria is honoured by being the de-
pository of the miraculous image of our lady
of Alumeda. San Gines has a Christ by
Cano, and the Annunciation by Jordan. San-
tiago contains two or three pictures by Jordan ;
and San Antonia de Florida boasts of a fresco
by Goya. This limited interest is all that the
churches of Madrid possess.

Among the sixty-eight convents in Madrid,
few possess great interest from the treasures
of art which they contain. It is in Seville,
and in the other cities of the south, that the
convents offer the chiefest attractions to the
lovers of painting.

The greatest and the richest among the
convents of Madrid, is Las Salesas. It was

VOL. r. s

258 SPAIN IN 1830.

founded by Ferdinand the Vlth., and is
adorned with a profusion of the most beautiful
marbles and porphyries of Cuenca and Gra-
nada. I noticed several columns of green
marble, upwards of sixteen feet high, and each
of one piece. Both in the church of the con-
vent, and in its sacristy, there are some good
pictures ; and a fine marble monument, raised
by command of Charles III. to the memory of
the founder, does credit to the taste of Fran-
cisco Sabatini, who designed it, and to the
powers of Francisco Gutierrez, who executed
it. The morning service in the church of this
convent is enchanting ; the nuns, all of noble
family, and well educated, — chiefly in the same
convent, —seem to have made music a principal
study. I have never heard an organ touched
with so delicate a hand, as in the Convento
de las Salesas.

The church of the Convent de la Encarna-
cion, also a female convent of bare-footed
Augustins, contains beautiful marbles, and
some pictures perhaps worth a visit, by Cas-
tillo, Bartolom6, Roman, and Greco.

The Franciscan convent is worth visiting,
only on account of its great extent ; it contains

SPAIN IN 1830. 259

ten courts, and dormitories for two hundred
monks. Ev^ery where the Franciscans are the
most numerous. It is said of Cirillo, the
chief, or general, as he is called, of the Fran-
ciscan order, — he who is now exiled from
Madrid, — that he boasted of his power of
putting 80,000 men under arms : a force almost
equal to the king's. The head of the Francis-
can order used formerly to reside in Rome,
but the present head has made choice of
Spain.

The convent of Santa Isabel was robbed by
the French of many choice works of Espano-
letto ; but it still possesses some pictures by
Cerezo, Ccello, and others, — these are in the
church of the convent ; but it is said that
there are others in the interior, which it is
difficult, if not impossible, to see. There can-
not be a doubt, that among the many hundred
convents in Spain, in the interior of many of
which no man has ever been, — no one, at all
events, whose object has been to search for
pictures, — there are hidden, many productions
of the first masters. These may have come
into their possession in many ways ; they

s 2

260 SPAIN IN 1830,

may have been the individual property of dis-
tinguished persons previous to taking the veil ;
they may have been bequeathed to the convent
by the founder ; the gift of the painters them-
selves ; or offerings of the devout : but it is
certain, that pictures of value and merit are
shut up in convents. I am acquainted with a
gentleman at Seville, who himself purchased
"Joseph's Dream," by Juanes, and a portrait
by Giordano, from the abbess of the Domi-
nican convent at Seville, — who sold them in
order to purchase certain ornaments for one of
the altars.

The convent of San Pasqual was, previous
to the French invasion, the richest in paintings
of any of the convents or monasteries in Ma-
drid. It possessed the compositions of Van
Dyk, Veronese, Titian, Da Vinci, Jordan,
and many other eminent painters. The greater
number of these have been removed ; but there
are still several left, that well repay the trou-
ble of a visit to the church of the convent.
There is the " Taking of Christ in the Gar-
den," by Van Dyk ; a " Conception," by
Espanoletto ; "St. Francis in Prayer," by
Veronese ; and one or two others by Espa-

SPAIN IN 1830. 2G1

noletto. Several more valuable than these,
among the rest, ** Jacob Blessing his Sons,"
by Guercino, have been removed from the
chnrch into the interior ; but the porter in-
formed me, that it was intended shortly to
restore them again to the different chapels in
the convent church. These paintings were
bequeathed to this convent by its founder,
the Duke de Medina y Almirante de Castilla ;
affording another example of the manner in
which pictures may come into the possession
of nuns.

There is reason to believe that in the con-
vent of Santa Teresa also, there arc paintings
of value. During the time of the scarcity in
Madrid, several pictures that used to adorn
the church of the convent, were openly sold;
and these have since been replaced by others, —
several of them, works of merit, which could
not have come from any other quarter than
the interior of the convent. But in the church,
there is yet preserved a picture of great beauty
and value : this is a copy of the " Transfigura-
tion of Raphael," by Julio Romano; one of
the most successful disciples of that great
master. This picture, also, was left to the

262 SPAIN IN 1830.

convent by its founder, the Prince Astillano,
under the condition that it should never be
parted with.

The only other convents worth visiting, are
the' Las Salesas Nuevas, which contains a
Crucifixion of Greco ; and Las Descalzas
Reales, in which will be found a good statue
of the Infanta Dona Juana, daughter of Charles
v., from the hand of Pompeyo Leoni.

I regret much that I was not able to see the
palace with so much attention as it deserves.
I delayed from time to time making any ap-
plication for admission ; and in the mean while,
the situation of the queen bringing the court
from La Granja two months sooner than usual,
the palace was only to be seen at short inter-
vals, when the king and queen left it ; and as
the hour of the sortie was uncertain, the in-
terval between obtaining the order, and their
majesties return, was very limited.

The new palace, although but a small part
of the original plan, is nevertheless one of the
most magnificent in Europe. It was begun in
the year 1737, and was built under the direc-
tion of Don Juan Bautista Saquete, the dis-
ciple of Jubarra. It is a square, each front

SPAIN IN 1830. 263

being 470 feet in length, and 100 feet in
height; a balustrade runs round the whole,
to hide the leaden roof, and the walls are re-
lieved and adorned by innumerable columns
and pilasters. The interior of the palace cor-
responds with its external magnificence ; eveiy
thing within it, is of the most costly and most
sumptuous kind, bespeaking the habitation of
monarchs who once owned the riches of half
the world. The paintings have been mostly
removed to the gallery, but some yet remain ;
particularly " the Rape of Proserpine," and
some others, by Reubens ; '* a Magdalen,"
and some others, by Van Dyk ; several ex-
quisite paintings, by Mengs ; and among
others, " The Agony in the Garden ;" two
Cattle pieces, by Velasquez ; and several
charming pictures, by Tintoretto, Carlo Ma-
ratti, and Andrea Vacaro. The ceilings also,
by Bayeu, Velasquez, and Mengs, may well
excite admiration. In the apartments of the
Infantes likewise, I understand there are some
valuable paintings ; but these, 1 had not an
opportunity of seeing. The great license that
is allowed the public, has sometimes surprised
me. The royal apartments are of course

264 SPAIN IN 1830.

guarded ; but any person may walk up the
stairs, and along all the corridors, and even
through the ante-rooms without being once
questioned.

In the neighbourhood of the palace, is the
royal armoury, which contains many ancient
relics ; among others, the arms of Ferdinand
and Isabella, of Charles V., of King Chico,
the last of the Moorish kings, and of several
kings and warriors, — those hardly-used Ame-
ricans, who took the Spaniards for gods, and
found them worse savages than themselves.

CHAPTER VllI,

Literature ; Difficulties to be encountered by Avithors ; the Book
Fair ; Digression respecting the Claims of Spain to Gil Bias ;
Public and Private Literary Societies ; Libraries ; Obstacles
to Improvement, from the State of Society ; Female Educa-
tion ; Education for the Liberal Professions ; Course of Study
for the Bar; Course of Medical Studies; Charitable Institu-
tions ; Consumption of Madrid ; Prices of Provisions.

A priest, with whom I was acquainted in
Madrid, telling me one day, that he had
thoughts of going to London or Paris, to print
an English and Spanish Grammar, and a Ger-
man and Spanish Grammar, which he had
written ; I asked him why he did not print
them in Madrid, since they were intended for
the use of his own countrymen, — especially as
they could contain nothing political ? His
answer was, that nothing was so difficult as
to obtain a license to publish a book, even
although it contained no allusion to politics :

2G6 SPAIN IN 1830.

and '' the better the book," said he, " the
more ditficult it is to obtain a license, and the
more dangerous to publish ; because Govern-
ment does not wish to encourage writing, or
even thinking, upon any subject : and the
publication of a good book sets men a-think-
ing."

This comprehensive reply explains, pretty
nearly, the present state of literature in Spain;
judging of it by the number and merit of pub-
lished works :

The number of books published, from 1820
to 1823, was very considerable. The energy
then communicated to letters, from the re-
moval of almost all restriction, was extraordi-
nary: books upon all subjects issued from the
press ; and the best proof, perhaps, that can
be given, that many of these were books of
talent, is, that most of them are now prohi-
bited. Literature, however, then received an
impetus, which still continues in some degree
to affect it, notwithstanding the difficulties to
be overcome : for there is a considerably
greater number of books published now, than
previous to the revolution; and no reasonable
doubt can be entertained, tl>at another removal

SPAIN IN 1830. 2G7

of the restrictions which press upon literature,
would bring into the field a large accession of
native talent.

Even after a license has been obtained to
publish a manuscript, its publication is still a
dangerous speculation ; because it frequently
happens, that when the book is printed, and
partly circulated, some great man, even more
fastidious than the censors, discovers a dubious
passage, and the book is prohibited. There
are four difficulties, therefore, which an author
must resolve to face, before he sits down to
prepare his manuscript : — the probability that
he may be refused a license ; the probability
that, before being licensed, his manuscript
maybe mutilated — a probability that, I am
told, amounts almost to a certainty, unless the
work be upon one of the exact sciences ; the
probability that, after the work be published,
some caprice may forbid its sale ; and the
certainty, that if the work be a talented work,
the author of it, whether obtaining his license
or no, will be looked upon with suspicion ;
and, if in Government employment, will al-
most certainly lose his appointment.

These are sad drawbacks upon literary

268 SPAIN IN 1830.

exertion. But there is yet another : men are
afraid to read, as well as to write ; and the
sale of a work is therefore insecure. Book-
sellers do not care to venture upon the publi-
cation without some guarantee ; the conse-
quence of which is, that almost every book
published in Spain, is published by subscrip-
tion, or in numbers, or both in numbers and
by subscription ; by either of which modes
the risk is lessened. What should we say in
England of bills posted about the streets, an-
nouncing a new novel to be published by sub-
scription, and in numbers? Yet I saw an
announcement of this kind, of a novel to be
called El Dissimulador — the Dissembler. But
the greater number of books at present pub-
lished in Spain, are translations from French
and English, adapted, of course, to the Spa-
nish censorship. I noticed the following an-
nouncements, by bills posted on the walls : —
" Universal History," from the French, in
numbers: "the History of Spain," a new
edition, in numbers : " the History of Spa-
nish America," an original work, in numbers.
This manuscript I should think must have
been sadly carved. The following were an-

SPAIN IN 1830. 269

nouDced by subscription : — " Selections from
French and English Literature;" "Church
History ; " " Chateaubriand's Holy Land ; "
'* the History of the Administration of Lord
North," a singular enough choice ; " the His-
tory of the English Regicides ; " " the Works
of Fenelon ; " a new edition of '' Gil Bias ; "
** Evelina;" and while I was in Madrid, pro-
posals were circulated for publishing by sub-
scription, and in numbers, the whole prose
works of Sir Walter Scott. I heard of one
voluminous, and rather important work, about
to be published by a society called " the Aca-
demy of History," viz., all *' the inscriptions
in Greek and Latin, now extant, throughout
Spain." The Arabic inscriptions are not in-
cluded in the work, these being already col-
lected and printed.

Although the Spanish government endea-
vours by every means to repress intelligence,
and thwart the progress of knowledge, there
is no lack of books in Spain, to those who
will, and dare to read them. This is indeed
done under the rose ; but it is done. There
are two libraries in Madrid, which contain the
best French authors ; and persons who arc

270 SPAIN IN 1S30.

known to the librarian, or recommended to
him, may obtain almost any prohibited book.
I had personal proof of this. Sitting one
morning with a lady connected with the royal-
ist party, but a woman of very liberal views,
and one of the few blue-stockings of Madrid,
I was compassionating the situation of those
who, like herself, were lovers of literature,
but who were denied the means of gratifying
their taste. The lady assured me she had no
need of my compassion upon this score, for
that she might have any French author she
chose, and many English authors, from the

library of . And when I expressed some

surprise at this, she desired me to fix upon
any celebrated books that occurred to me,
and they should be put into my hands in less
than half an hour. I chose accordingly ; and
in ten minutes, I had in my hands a Paris
edition of " the Social Compact," and the
Basil edition of *' Gibbon's Historical Work."
Books, therefore, may be had ; but persons
are afraid to have and to read them.

A considerable number of prohibited books
slip into circulation at the time of the fair. I
was then in Madrid, and spent a few hours

SPAIN IN 1830. 271

each day strolling among the booths and
stalls, and talking with the vendors of goods.
Every kind of article is exposed at this fair, —
clothes, calicoes, jewellery, toys, hardware,
china, but especially books and pictures. The
books were innumerable ; and their high prices
seemed to be an index to a good demand ; and
yet I thought that, on the last day of the fair,
the shelves were but little relieved of their
burden : probably, hoM'ever, the book mer-
chants had other copies to replace those that
were sold. The books were of all descrip-
tions ; but the most numerous class, was theo-
logical and religious ; particularly the lives of
saints, who have all their biographers. The
next most numerous class was history; chiefly
histories connected with Spain and America.
Then followed Spanish plays, and Spanish
novels. After these, Spanish translations
from French and English works. And lastly,
books in foreign languages. Among the Spa-
nish translations from English works, I noticed
many copies of Blair's Lectures, Clarissa
Harlowe, and Goldsmith's Roman History.
Among the books in English, I observed Bell's
Surgery, the Life of Wellington, and Lady

272 SPAIN IN 1830.

Morgan's Italy, whose English dress had
blinded the eyes of the Inquisitors, who looked
very scrutinizingiy at the stalls. I saw several
copies of Machiavelli, — a prohibited book, I
believe, — and one Bible in 14 volumes, with
notes by a Dominican friar, which I have no
doubt are sufficiently curious.

I questioned the book-vendors, as to the
demand, and in what current it ran. They in-
formed me, that the demand for religious books
was on the decline; and that the lives of saints
especially, were almost unmarketable. Trans-
lation from French and English, especially
the former, and even works in the French
language, were asked for; the demand was
also large and constant, for the Spanish dra-
matists and novels ; especially Don Quixotte
and Gil Bias, which were to be seen on every
stall, in great numbers, and of various editions.
I opened several copies of Gil Bias, and found
the title-page invariably in these words, —
" Aventuras de Gil Bias de Santillana, robadas
a Espana, y adoptadas en Franc ia por M. Le
Sage ; restituidas a su patria y a su lengua
nativa per un Espaiiol zeloso que no sufre se
burl en de su nacion." This is a point upon

SPAIN IN 1830. 273

which the Spanish nation is very jealous ;
every educated person stoutly maintaining,
that to Spain belongs the honour of having
produced Gil Bias. It is evident, that in the
dispute between France and Spain, regarding
their respective claims to Gil Bias, the proofs
must be drawn from the internal evidence
afforded by the work itself. The only direct
proofs that could be obtained, would be the
production of the original manuscript. This
however must lie upon the French; because
if any plausible reason exist for supposing,
that the Spanish manuscript got into the hands
of Le Sage, the Spanish manuscript of course
cannot be produced ; and the French must
produce their French manuscript. That this
has never been done, seems to atford a prim^
facie evidence in favour of the Spanish claims;
especially if, as I believe to be the case, the
internal evidence be also in favour of Spain.
The belief that Gil Bias is a French work,
and the work of Le Sage, is so universal, and
I feel so perfect a conviction that this belief is
erroneous, that I cannot allow this opportu-
nity to escape, of introducing a short digression
upon the subject.

VOL. I. T

1

274 SPAIN IN 1830.

The Spanish statement is this: that Don
Antonio de Solis, a well-known Spanish author,
wrote in 1665 a romance, entitled " Aventuras
del Bachiller de Salamanca, 6 Historia de Don
Querubim de la Ronda;" that Solis could not
publish this in Spain, owing to its containing
many allusions to persons then existing ; and
that Hugo, Marquess of Lionne, ambassador
from France at the Spanish court, who was a
man of letters, purchased not only a library of
Spanish poets and dramatists, but also many
manuscripts, which were afterwards seen in
the library of the Marquess's third son ; that it
is known that this son, Julio de Lionne, was
intimately allied in friendship with M. Le
Sage, and by him the manuscript of the
Bachelor of Salamanca, " Don Querubim de
la Ronda," was confided to Le Sage, who
divided the work, making from it the Ad-
ventures of Gil Bias, and the Bachelor of
Salamanca. These assertions afford a pre-
sumption ; but no more. At the same time,
it cannot escape observation, that a complete
refutation of these assertions, or at least of the
result drawn from them, would be, the pro-
duction by the heirs of M. Le Sage, of the

SPAIN IN 1830. 275

manuscript, eitherof Gil Bias, or the Bachelor
of Salamanca. But there are many proofs
drawn from the work itself, strongly support-
ing the presumption afforded by the tale told
by the Spaniards. Of these I shall state a
few: — 1st. There are many French words and
phrases, which do not correspond with the
usual elegance of Le Sage's style, and which
have the appearance of being literal transla-
tions of Spanish words and phrases. 2nd.
There are innumerable Spanish proper names
in Le Sage's work, and particularly small
villages, of which no foreigner could know the
names, still less their geographical position.
3rd. We find in Gil Bias a variety of particular
circumstances, usages, and habits, peculiar to
Spanish provincial life, of which no stranger
could have a sufficient knowledge. 4th. There
are in Le Sage's work innumera])le errors in
names of persons and towns, seeming to prove,
that errors have arisen in copying the Spanish
manuscript. The proofs of each of these might
extend to a chapter : none of them, taken
singly, amount to much ; but when considered
along with the story told of the manner in
t2

276 SPAIN IN 1830.

which the MS. came into the possession of Le
Sage, unanswered, as it is, by the production
of any French manuscript ; and along with
the admitted fact, that several of the incidental
stories introduced into Gil Bias are to be found
in old Spanish romances, — a strong conviction
is produced, that Gil Bias is a Spanish, and
not a French work.

A strange enough answer was made by the
Count de Neufchateau, member of the French
academy, to the assertion that Le Sage had
availed himself of the Spanish manuscript.
He said, Le Sage would not have taken to
himself the merit of having written Gil Bias,
if the work had been composed from the manu-
script of another ; and the reason he gives for
his confidence in Le Sage's honour is, that he
did not hesitate to acknowledge his other
plagiarisms. He acknowledged that he took
from Spanish authors ''the New Adventures of
Don Quixotte," published by him in 1735;
" The Devil upon Two Sticks," published in
1732; '' The Adventures of Guzman de Al-
farache," published in 1707 ; *' The Life and
Doings of Estavanillo Gonzalez," published in
1734; and " The Bachelor of Salamanca,'' pub-

SPAIN IN 1830. 277

lished in 1738. What the force of this argu-
ment is, I leave the reader to judge.

But to return from this digression. Private
literary associations are out of the question in
Spain: several were set on foot in 1821-22;
but after the return of the king, any thing of
this kind was known to be so obnoxious, that
these societies dissolved themselves, without
waiting for any express order to that effect.
Two public institutions only, connected with
literature, exist at present. Like every other
institution in Spain, they are Real, and there-
fore imder the surveillance of government; —
their names are, ** The Royal Spanish Aca-
demy," and " The Koyal Academy of History."
The object of the first of these, is to perfect
the Castilian language ; and with this view
they have published two excellent works, a
Dictionary and a Grammar, besides a treatise
on Orthography, and several smaller writings.
The object of the vVcademy of History is to
separate truth from falsehood in the history of
Spain, and to collect all that may throw light
upon the ancient and modern history, as well
as geography, of that country. This society
has published an excellent Geographical Die-

278 SPAIN IN 1830.

tionary, which has gone through several edi-
tions ; and is now on the eve of publishing the
collection of Inscriptions which I have already
mentioned, accompanied by notes.

There is no want of public and valuable
libraries in Spain, particularly in Madrid.
The two principal of these, are the Royal
Library, and the Royal Library of San Isidro.
The former, founded by Philip V., was en-
riched in the reign of Charles IIL by the
accession of the library of the cardinal Arquin-
to, purchased in Rome ; and in the reign of
his successor, Charles IV., by several other
libraries; and now amounts to 200,000 volumes.
The Royal Library also contains many valu-
able manuscripts, particularly Arabic ; and a
rich collection of coins and medals, illustrative
of Spanish history. The Spanish press has
produced some fine specimens of printing,
which are preserved in this library, particu-
larly Don Quixotte and Sallust, both from the
press of Ibarra. Besides the library of San
Isidro, which contains about 60,000 volumes,
. there are some excellent libraries in the pos-
session of private persons, particularly the
Duke of Osuna, the Duke of Infantado, and

SPAIN IN 1830. 279

the Duke of Medina Coeli : the latter of these
was formerly open to the public ; but so
great public spiritedness looking too much like
liberalism, it is now closed.

T have already spoken of the obstacles
thrown in the way of knowledge, by the re-
gulations respecting the schools and acade-
mies; and the fetters thrown upon education
of every kind : these chiefly affect the rising-
generation ; but I may mention, as another
cause of the backward state of literature in
Sj^ain, the tone of Spanish socicti/. Every Spanish
house has its tcrtulia; and every man, Moman,
girl, and boy, is a member of one tertulia or
another. The introduction to the tertulia
begins at a very early age. I have seen boys
who, in any other country, would have been
in a school-room, or at play, present them-
selves regularly at the tertulia, and throwing
off the character of boys, act the part of
grown-up men. This necessity of resorting
every night to the tertulia, not only interferes
greatly with habits of study, by employing
much valuable time, — but the preparatory
education for the tcrtulia, if I may so express
myself, is of the most unimproving kind.

280 SPAIN IN 1830.

The foundation of the tertulia is gallantry, —
here it is that the Spanish woman, after
having reaped a harvest of admiration on the
Prado, retires to receive that nearer homage
which is prized still higher ; and here it is
that the Spaniard makes his prelude to future
conquest. Gallantry is the business of every
Spaniard's life; his object in frequenting the
tertulia, is to practise it ; and his principal
study, therefore, is that frivolous and gallant
conversation that is essential in the first place
to captivate the attention of the Spanish
woman. The Spanish ladies, with all their
agreeable wit and affability, are ignorant
almost beyond belief; and in a country where,
more than any other in Europe, the society is
mixed,— the extreme ignorance of the female
sex, and the channel into which conversation
must necessarily run every evening of every
day throughout the year, cannot fail to have
its effect upon the mind, and to act as a draw-
back upon the desire of knowledge, and lite-
rary distinction.

I understand that female education begins
to improve ; and that besides embroidery and
music, a little history and geography are now

SPAIN IN 1830. 281

taught in the schools, but not in the convents;
so that the highest classes, who are mostly
educated in the convents, are worse educated
than the middle classes. While in Madrid,
I had the pleasure of being conducted to a
girl's Lancastrian school by its directress.
Donna Hurtado de Mendoza, a lady every way
worthy of the trust. During the time of the
constitution, there were also two Lancastrian
schools for boys ; but these were suppressed
upon the return of the king, who was prevailed
upon, however, to allow the school for girls to
continue. In the Lancastrian school there
are at present 163 pupils, and the system
pursued is precisely similar to that followed
in England; part of three days every week
is dedicated to instruction in the tenets of
the Roman Catholic faith.

There is one fact I had nearly forgotten to
mention, — a fact somewhat opposed to the
narrow policy of the government in its hosti-
lity to the progress of literary knowledge.
Eight young men, of promising abilities, were
lately sent by the Spanish government to
different cities to study the various branches
of chemistry, with a liberal allowance from

282 SPAIN IN 1830.

the public purse ; and his majesty's gilder
was also dispatched to England to make in-
quiries as to the manner of gilding buttons,
and gilding bronze, with an allowance of
18,000 reals; and with another stipulation as
to a farther and much larger sum, to be put
at his disposal for the purchase of secrets.

In Spain, the education for the liberal pro-
fessions is tedious and strict, but not ex-
pensive. The course of study required of a
barrister includes no fewer than thirteen years,
besides a previous knowledge of Latin, in which
the student is examined before entering any
of the law universities. The branches of
study which occupy these thirteen years, are,
three years of philosophy, which consists of
logic, physics, metaphysics, and ethics ; and
in the first of these years, the outlines of
mathematics are taught; but this branch of
study is never pursued farther : after this
course of philosophy, the theory of Roman
law is entered upon, which occupies two
years ; one year of Spanish law then follows ;
next. Ecclesiastical law, which occupies two
years ; and this is all that is required to take
the degree of bachelor : but rhetoric, theology,

SPAIN IN 1830. 283

digest of law, and medicine, are required for a
higher degree. At the end of each year, ex-
aminations are gone through, before granting
certificates ; and the whole of the instructions
are in Latin, excepting rhetoric and Spanish
law. The philosophy used, is that of Gue-
barra. The expense of instruction varies
according to the university ; at Toledo it is
all gratis ; at Alcala it costs about 50/. per
annum ; but many are admitted into the co-
legios, in which case the student is put to no
expense. These colegios are particular foun-
dations, under the patronage of certain great
families. The education of an attorney re-
quires only an apprenticeship, and that the
candidate should be twenty- five years of age,
and have a certificate of good morals ; he has
also to pass one examination in law. Before
any barrister, attorney, or notary, be admitted
to practice, he is obliged to swear that he will
defend the poor gratis. Thirty are appointed
each year from each society to defend the
poor in civil cases ; and every one is entitled
to be put upon the poor list who chooses to
swear that he is not worth 4000 reals (40/.) ;
and it is a curious fact, that, in criminal cases,

284 SPAIN IN 1830.

the prisoner is entitled to make choice of any
barrister in Madrid to defend him. In Spain
they do not understand that celebrated legal
fiction, so implicitly believed by some sound
heads in England, that the judge is counsel
for the prisoner. I learned that the course of
justice, or in plainer terms a legal process, is
very expensive in Madrid ; two-third parts,
at least, of every account being absorbed in
court dues and stamps.

The Spanish government is not unmindful
of the lives and health of its subjects ; for
medical is even more strict and tedious than
legal education.

There are three kinds of medical professors
in Spain : — physicians, medico-surgeons, and
cirujanos romancistos.

The first of these, after a course of the usual
regular scholastic studies, go to the Univer-
sity, where they study anatomy, physiology,
pathology, and the different branches of medi-
cal education ; in which four years are em-
ployed. They then go through the hospitals,
with professors appointed for the purpose —
note down the diseases and their treatment,
and submit their notes for revision, to the

SPAIN IN 1830. 285

instructors ; this occupies two years : after
which they undergo examinations upon the
theory and practice of medicine, before being-
admitted to practice.

The medico-surgeons profess both physic
and surgery : they go through the same stu-
dies as the physician, adding chirurgical pa-
thology, midwifery, clinica medica, and sur-
gical practice ; and are subject to examination
upon all these branches.

The third class, the ciriymios iv??iancistos, are
literally surgeons who have not studied Latin,
and are an inferior class. They are not required
to have the same classical education as the
others ; but must study, and pass examinations
in anatomy, physiology, chirurgical pathology,
operative surgery, and midwifery. Those be-
longing to this class of medical practitioners,
are forbidden, by a royal edict, from prescrib-
ing for inward complaints.

Madrid does not want institutions for the
alleviation of bodily infirmity ; there being no
fewer than thirteen hospitals in the capital.
The principal of these are, the General Hos-
pital, which is chiefly supported by the re-
ceipts of the bull-fights ; and the Hospicio real

286 SPAIN IN 1830.

de San Fernando^ which is also a workhouse,
and is supported by imposts upon the entry
of goods into the city. There is also an Hos-
pital for Illegitimate Children, which receives
about 1200 yearly, nearly one-third of the
number being foundlings, and which is sup-
ported by the lottery ; an Orphan Hospital,
which supports about 800 orphans ; several
smaller orphan hospitals ; and two lying-in
hospitals.

There are also in Madrid, ten different
institutions for philanthropic purposes — the
succour of the wretched, and the relief of the
poor ; among these, El Monte de Piedad de-
serves mention. It is a public establishment,
which lends money upon goods, which may
be reclaimed at any time during a year, or
even longer, in particular cases, upon repay-
ment of the loan without any interest.

Madrid, I have mentioned in the former
chapter, is supposed to contain 170,000 inha-
bitants ; but this is partly conjecture, — no
census having been lately made. In the year
1790, there died in Madrid 5915 persons ;
and 4897 were born: and in the year 1810,
378G persons died ; and 5282 were born.

SPAIN IN 1830. 287

The following was the consumption of Madrid,
in the year 1 825 : 230,000 sheep ; 1 2,500 oxen ;
70,000 hogs; 2,417,357 arrobas* of charcoal;
13,245 arrobas of soap ; 40,809 arrobas of oil;
800,000 bushels of corn ; 500,000 arrobas of
wine; 50,000 arrobas of snow; 30,000 arrobas
of candles ; and 18,000 bushels of salt: and
supposing, as there is reason to believe, that
since that time the population of Madrid has
increased 5000, the addition of a thirty-fifth
part to these sums, will give nearly the pre-
sent consumption of Madrid.

Madrid, although, with the exception of
Constantinople, the most interesting city in
Europe to visit, owing to the perfect novelty
of scene which it presents even to him who
has travelled through every other country,
would not be an agreeable permanent resi-
dence. It is not like Paris, or Rome, or
Vienna ; in any of Avhicli cities a stranger
may, if he pleases, live nearly as he lived in
his own country. In Madrid, this is impos-
sible ; the hotels are execrable ; boarding
houses there are none ; and although a

* An arroba is 251bs. weight.

288 SPAIN IN 1830.

stranger may find lodgings, he will find Spa-
nish habits in them. Of the state of society,
and of the diversions, I have already given
some idea. These possess much interest to a
stranger, but not any permanent attraction ;
so that after he has remained in Madrid long
enough to gratify his curiosity with the novel
spectacle of a people differing from all the
rest of the world, in dress, habits, amuse-
ments, modes of life, and modes of thinking,
he will begin to feel some desire to know
what the world beyond Spain is doing ; be-
cause of this, he can know nothing within
Spain. But let no traveller leave Madrid to
return to England. Seville and Granada lie
beyond; and when the Castiles have lost their
attraction, Andalusia and its thousand charms
await him.

Before closing this chapter, — the last that
has any reference to Madrid, — let me give
some information respecting the price of pro-
visions, &c.

The Spanish capital is probably the dearest
capital in Europe ; and this cannot excite sur-
prise, when it is considered that Madrid is
situated in the midst of a sterile country,

SPAIN IN 1830. 289

where there is no pasture land, no rivers,
scarcely any gardens, and no communication
with the sea, or with any of the distant and
more productive provinces. Notwithstanding
these drawbacks, the markets are well sup-
plied ; and all kinds of meat, poultry, game,
vegetables, and fruit, may be had of an excel-
lent quality : fish, and milk, are the only
scarce articles. In the following enumera-
tion, the best quality of every article is under-
stood ; it is not easy to render the prices with
precision, into English money, because they
are generally reckoned in quartos ; but if the
reader recollects that eight quartos are nearly
2\d., one quarto being i?th,s of a penny, it will
be no difficult calculation to bring the prices
to English value.

Beef, per lb. of 14 oz. 18 quartos. Veal, per
lb. 30 quartos. Mutton, per lb. 18 quartos.
Pork, per lb. 20 quartos.

The price of fish cannot be stated ^\ ith
accuracy ; it is never seen excepting in winter,
and the supply is so precarious, that it is im-
possible to approach the truth.

Bread, of the first quality, is 14 quartos
per lb. ; the second quality 10.

VOL. I. u

290 SPAIN IN 1830,

Ordinary wine of La Mancha, 21 quartos.

A fine fowl, 6 reals (1^. 6d.). A chicken „
from 7d. to 10 J. A duck, from Is. 8d. to 2^. Id.
A goose, 3.V. 6d. A turkey, from 4^. to 10^.,
according to the season. Turkeys, in Madrid,
are not sold in the markets, but are driven
through the streets. I have several times
bought a small turkey for 3,y. Pigeons, 1*. 6d.
or 1^. 8d. a couple.

Coffee, 1*. 8^?. per lb. Chocolate, 2*. 6d.
per lb. Green tea, 10.y. Black tea, 12^.; but
it is scarcely to be found. Sugar, l^. 86^.,
equal to English sugar at lid. The natives
use sugar at 10^/. ; but it is dirty and bad.

Goat's milk 4d. a pint during summer, — half
that price in winter ; cow's milk is difficult to
be had in summer, — in winter it is Sd. a pint ;
Flanders butter 2*. 6d. per lb. ; salted butter,
from the Asturias and Galicia, may also be
had at Is. 6d. ; but it is not good.

Vegetables are rather dearer than in Eng-
land, especially potatoes.

Fruit is always excellent and cheap. A
melon, such as cannot be seen either in France
or England, costs 5d. ; these are the Valencia
melons, extremely pale, and of the most ex-

SPAIN IN 18.10. 291

quisite flavour. The finest Muscatel grapes
are lid. per lb.

I have mentioned in a former chapter, that
the bread of Spain is, without exception, ex-
cellent ; and it is nowhere finer than in Ma-
drid. The finest, is called pan de Majorca;
but this bread is made partly with milk, and
is not fitted for general use ; the bread used
by the better classes, is the pan Frances, very
ill named, because it is much superior to
any French bread. The lower orders, and
many too among the middle classes, use pian
Candealy in which there is no leaven, and
no salt.

I must not omit the mention of fuel ; this is
an expensive article in winter to a stranger
who is not accustomed to sit without a fire.
The American minister told me, that his
fuel cost him 20.?. per day in the month of
August.

There is only one thing in Madrid remark-
ably cheap ; that is, the keep of horses. From
the same authority I may state, that the keep
of a horse does not exceed 20/. per annum.
The usual food of horses is cut straw, and a

u 2

292 SPAIN IN 1830.

little barley ; and it appears that they thrive
well upon this regimen : but in Spain, horses
are lightly worked, no one travelling with his
own horses, but invariably with mules hired
for the purpose.

CHAPTER IX.

STATE OF PARTIES, AND POLITICAL PROSPECTS.

Ix dedicating a chapter to the consideration of
the state of parties, and the probable political
prospects of Spain, I am anxious to avoid the
imputation of any assumption of superior
knowledge, or exclusive information. My
knowledge upon these subjects has no farther
claim to superiority than that which arises
from its having been gathered upon tliQ spot :
this ought, no doubt, to count for something;
both because a resident in a country is better
situated for judging of the authenticity of in-
formation, and is able to avail himself of a
greater number of sources ; and because, from
personal observation, many helps are obtained.
During the several months that I remained in

294 SPAIN IN 1830.

Madrid, my acquaintance lay among men of
all parties. With Carlists, Royalists, and
Liberals, I was upon terms of equal intimacy;
and I never found, among men of any party,
the least backwardness in speaking privately
the sentiments of their party ; or in avowing
its views, and speculating upon its prospects.
Many have been so candid as to avow them-
selves hypocrites. Military men in Madrid,
and at Barcellona, sworn to support the govern-
ment, have admitted to me that they were
Carlists, — associated in private societies of
that party which held their meetings every
second night : and employees in Toledo, de-
pendents upon the existing government, who,
in that hot-bed of ultraism, found it prudent
even to pretend some sympathy with the opi-
nions of the Carlists, have told me in confi-
dence, that they were neither Loyalists nor
Carlists, but Liberals. From this it may be
gathered, that a person residing in Spain, and
unsuspected of any improper object, may,
without much difficulty, learn the opinions
and views of men of different parties. The
conclusions which I may occasionally draw,
many may think erroneous. I will only say,

SPAIN IN 1830. 295

that I am unconscious of being biassed by
prejudice ; and whatever I set down shall be
based as much as possible upon fact and
observation.

I left England in the belief that there existed
in Spain two great parties, — the Constitution-
alists, and the adherents of the government ;
the latter party indeed somewhat divided, —
and comprising many shades of opinion, rang-
ing from absolutism, to a point somewhere
between that and moderation. But this esti-
mate I discovered to be very erroneous. I
found three parties in Spain: the Absolutists,
there denominated Carlists; the Government
party, there called the moderate party; and
the Liberals. The most influential of these
parties is, beyond all question, the first.
Reckoning the total population of Spain, this
party is by far the most numerous ; it com-
prises the great mass of the lower orders
throughout Spain ; and in many parts, almost
the whole population, — as inToledo, the towns
and villages of the Castiles, and the pro-
vinces of Murcia and Catalunia. It com-
prises, with few exceptions, the 130,000
friars, and a great majority of the clergy,

296 SPAIN IN 1830.

and it comprises a considerable proportion of
the military, both officers and privates; but
chiefly the former. With such components,
it is evident that this party does not depend
for its power, solely upon its numerical su-
periority. Every one knows, that there is
uncounted wealth in the convents and churches
of Spain. I do not speak merely of the wealth
in jewels, and golden urns, and images, locked
up in Toledo, and Seville, and Murcia, and
the Escurial, and elsewhere, — though much of
this would, without doubt, be made a ready
sacrifice to the necessities of the party ; but
also of the more available riches, well known
to be possessed by many orders of frairs ;
among others, by the Carthusians, the Domi-
nicans, and HieronomiteSo Hundreds of the
convents in Spain have no possible way of
consuming their revenues — for it is a fact, that
the poor orders are invariably the most nu-
merous ; and we generally find a very limited
fraternity in those convents whose revenues
are the largest. In the Carthusian convent,
at Granada, there are only nine monks ; and
the land for more than half a league round,
and comprising numerous country houses, and

SPAIN IN 1830. 297

hamlets, is the property of this convent. In
the Convento de los Reyes, in the neighbour-
hood of Valencia, there are indeed twenty-
seven monks ; but one of their number ad-
mitted to me, that the revenues of the convent
exceeded 500,000 reals, (5000/. sterling) : and
in the neighbourhood of Murviedro, (the an-
cient Saguntum), there is another convent of
Carthusians, which owns seven villages, and
a tract of laud as rich as any in Spain, nearly
a league square, and which contains only
seven monks.

In place of three of these examples, as
many hundreds might be given. The same
monk who admitted to me the amount of the
revenues of the Convento de los Reyes, said,
in reply to my question as to what they did
with so much wealth, that " times of need
might come ; " and there can be little doubt
that other friars might make a similar reply.
Nor can it be doubted, that many of the
reputed poor orders, who live upon charity,
have no need of it. The prayers, blessings,
and other godly offices of the Franciscans,
bear the highest value in the market of super-
stition ; and in those convents in which the

298 SPAIN IM 1S30.

visitor dare not put money into the hands of
the friar, I have frequently been reminded,
that a certain little golden saint, or silver
virgin, accepted the iKcttas which were laid
upon their altars. This cannot be considered
a digression, because it explains another source
of influence, besides physical strength, pos-
sessed by the apostolicals.

It scarcely requires that I should adduce any
proof of the fact stated, that the lower orders,
and the friars, are attached to the party of Car-
lists. The present government of Spain is con-
sidered by the friars to be guided too much
by moderate principles. They perceive that
they lose a little groi .id ; and, shut out as they
are in a great measure, from commerce with
the world, they are ignorant of the pace at
^yhich the world moves : and the secret is
breaking upon them but slowly, that the
strength of governments lies in free institu-
tions. They still fancy that men are to be
governed by the scourge and the cowl ; and
believe that another Philip II. would elevate
the fortunes of Spain, and raise up all the
props of the Roman Catholic faith. I have
myself heard one of the monks in the Escurial

SPAIN IN 1830. 299

say, that the king was no friend to them : and
then, pointing to the urn of Philip, pass an
euiogium upon his virtues and piety. If any
other proof were needed, of the attachment of
the friars to the Carlist party, the circumstance
mentioned in a former chapter might be stated ;
that the chief of the Franciscan order was
detected in a conspiracy to overturn, or at
least to overawe the government. I need say
nothing of the lower orders, because, with few
exceptions, they and the friars are one.

I have said, that a great proportion of the
regular clergy also are Carlists. I know that
many are not ; because many are intelligent
men, who have at all events the acuteness to
perceive, that a more despotic government
would not secure its permanency ; and whose
alarm at the progress of liberalism in the
world, is not so great as that of the friars.
But the majority of the priesthood are igno-
rant; and the majority are therefore Carlists.
Besides, their interest lies that way — the head
of the church in Spain, the Archbishop of
Toledo, is the head of the party ; the Arch-
bishop of Seville is one of its warmest parti-
zans ; and almost all the archbishops and

300 SPAIN IN 1830.

bishops, hold similar sentiments : the curate,
therefore, who envies the luxuries of a canon,
must both profess his adherence to that party,
and employ his influence in its favour.

To the friars, the priests, and the lower
orders, I have added a part of the military, as
partizans of the Carlists ; I might also include
a considerable number of the employees. That
such is the fact, I have had many personal
proofs, as well as information from the most
authentic sources. The reason alleged by
those in government employment, whether
civil or military, for being favourably disposed
towards that party which would rather see
Don Carlos than Ferdinand at the head of the
government, is, the indecision of the king's cha-
racter. They say that merit is not rewarded ;
that services are not requited ; that promotion
is not upon a footing of justice ; and that
neither in civil nor military service, is there
any dependence upon government favour,
which shines or is withdrawn by caprice —
which favouritism purchases, and slander de-
stroys. All this they ascribe, and probably
with justice, to the king's ivant of character :
and the idea among them is very general, that

SPAIN IN 1830. 301

under Don Carlos, a system of greater justice,
and impartiality, and decision, v.'ould be pur-
sued in every department of the state. I have
sometimes wished, when I have heard these
good qualities attributed to Don Carlos, that
he possessed, along with them, some of those
other virtues which Spain requires in a sove-
reign : there might, in that case, be a more
speedy prospect of happiness for Spain.

Such appear to me to be the elements of
the party called Carlists, — the strongest in
numbers and wealth, and the weakest in intel-
ligence.

Classing the parties according to their nu-
merical strength, I must next mention the
party called Liberals ; but generally, in Eng-
land, known by the name of Constitutionalists.
If, by this party, be meant those who desire
a return to the Constitution of 1820; or who
would be satisfied to leave the settlement of
the government to the wisdom of an army of
refugees, — there is no such party in Spain :
but if, by the liberal party, we are to under-
stand those who perceive the vices of the
present government, and who dread still more
the ascendancy of the Carlists ; those who

302 SPAIN IN 1S30.

view with satisfaction the progress of en-
lightened opinions in politics and in reli-
gion, and who desire earnestly that Spain
should be gradually assimilated in her insti-
tutions, with the other civilized nations of
Europe, — ^then the liberal party comprises
the principal intelligence of the country ;
and subtracting from the population, the
lowest orders, the employees, the friars, and
the priests, it possesses a great numerical
majority. In any other country than Spain,
this party would wield an influence to which
its numerical strength would not entitle it ;
but in Spain, the light of intellect spreads but
a little way ; for it has to struggle with the
thick mists of ignorance and superstition ; and
when we say that the liberal party comprises
nearly all the intelligence of the country, it
must be remembered, that intelligence is but
scantily sprinkled over the face of Spain ; and
that, therefore, enlightened Spain, and en-
lightened England, ought to convey very dif-
ferent ideas of numerical strength.

It is a curious fact, that the adherents of the
existing government should be the fewest in
number ; yet, this is certainly the truth. With

SPAIN IN 1830. 303

the exception of perhaps the majority of the
employees, a part of the regular clergy, and
the greater part of the army, its friends are
very thinly scattered ; and its influence scarcely
extends beyond the sphere of its actual benefits.
Its patronage has been greatly circumscribed
since the lost of the Americas ; its lucrative
appointments are centred in a few ; and above
all, its power and patronage are held bj'' so
uncertain a tenure, that few, excepting those
in the actual enjoyment of office, feel any
assurance that their interests lie in supporting
that which seems to hang together almost by
a miracle.

The only security of a despotic government
is strength ; and this security the Spanish
government wants altogether. It has no
strength in the affections of the people gene-
rally ; and even among t'le military and em-
ployees, which are its only strength, there are
many disaffected. When the king returned,
after the overthrow of the constitution, every
measure was adopted that might give a ficti-
tious strength to the government : a clean
sweep was made of all the employees, from
the highest to the lowest; and whether hold-

304 SPAIN IN 1830.

ing their offices for life, or at pleasure. These,
under the constitution, had been selected from
amongst the best educated classes ; but all
who had been connected with the liberal party
being excluded from employment under the
succeeding government, the public offices were
necessarily filled up with persons of inferior
station. Another stroke of policy was intended,
in the distribution of office : in no country is
there so great a division of labour in public
employments as in Spain ; the duties of an
office formerly held by one person, were de-
legated to three, and the emoluments split in
proportion, — by which policy, a greater num-
ber of persons were interested in upholding
the government.

A third measure of policy I have mentioned
in a former chapter ; that of remodelling the
universities, and seminaries of learning, and
putting them under the superintendence of
Jesuits : and a fourth, was intended to secure
the fidelity and increase the numerical strength
of the military. To effect the first of these
objects, a new body of guards, in all nearly
20,000 men, was raised, and officered by
children. The king said, he would not have

SPAIN IN 18.30. 305

a single officer in the guards old enough to
understand the meaning of the word constitu-
tion ; and even now, that several years have
elapsed, the officers are, almost without ex-
ception, boys.

To protect the government by the numerical
strength of military, his majesty invited the
organization of a force to be called Royalist
Volunteers, to come in place of the national
volunteers who existed during the time of the
constitution. The term volunteer was a mis-
nomer; because government held out tempta-
tions irresistible to the lower classes, — a new
suit of clothes, and pay two days in the week,
besides some other little gratuities : the con-
sequence was, that a body called Royalist
Volunteers, amounting to about 160,000, was
speedily embodied. Such were the measures
adopted by a government that sought to base
itself, not upon the affections of the people, or
upon its own merits; but which trusted rather
in the zeal of hirelings, the precepts of Jesuits,
and the purchased bulwark of bayonets. But
these acts of political sagacity have added
little to the real strength of the government :

VOL. I. X

306 SPAIN IN 1830.

the change of all men in public office, made
as many enemies as friends ; and the exclusion
of so many educated men, created a necessity
for the employment of many low and unprin-
cipled men, who by their bad conduct, have
helped to lower the government in public
opinion. The fetters put upon education
offended many, — because the change from a
better to a worse plan of education was soon
perceived by the heads of families, in the more
limited range of knowledge offered to their
children; and the establishment of a volunteer
force, is well known throughout Spain to have
endangered, rather than strengthened the go-
vernment. That force is composed for the
most part of the lowest orders; and it is quite
a matter of notoriety, that the great majority
of these men are Carlists, — a thing proved
indeed by the discovery of the conspiracy, in
which they had agreed to take an active part.
With such elements as those which compose
the adherents of government, and with so total
an absence of that kind of support to which
alone an absolute government dare trust, it
seems impossible that the existing govern-
ment can long maintain its authority; and the

SPAIN IN 1830. 307

probability of its dissolution will appear the
greater, by citing a few facts, proving its utter
rottenness; its perfect contempt of honour and
justice in its dealings with its subjects; and its
constant and flagrant acts of oppression. 1
cannot well separate the examples, because
the bad acts of the government are not simply
oppression, or injustice ; but compounds of
oppression, injustice, and weakness. I shall
take them as they present themselves to my
memory.

While I was in Madrid, a grandee, a favourite
at court, whose name I regret I cannot recol-
lect, being deeply in debt, and harassed by his
creditors, and unwilling, although extremely
wealthy, to limit the number of his enjoy-
ments, went to the king and laid the case
before his royal master; who, sympathizing in
the pecuniary distress of the noble, exercised
the prerogative of a king who is above law, by
immediately presenting him with a royal order,
by which he was secured in the undisturbed
possession of his revenues for ten years, — his
creditors being interdicted during that time
from making any demand upon their debtor.

X 2

308 SPAIN IN 1830,

The grandee called his creditors together; and
when they supposed they were about to be
paid, he produced the royal order, against
which there was no appeal. No act of op-
pression could be more base than this ; it was
a total suspension of law, exercised without
reason ; a royal license to commit robbery ;
and of the worst kind, the robbery of the poor
by the rich. It is more than probable, how-
ever, that before the lapse of ten years, the
signature of Ferdinand VII. will have ceased
to inspire fear, or exact obedience.

The following circumstance I know to be
true. The Duke of Liria (Berwick) having
got into difficulties, put himself under, or was
put under secresto (sequestration), and was
allowed 10,000/. per annum from his revenues.
It so happened that the duke had an attack of
gout, and that he was obliged in consequence
to absent himself a few weeks from court.
One evening, while he was sitting at home, a
letter was delivered to him, sealed with the
royal seal ; and, upon opening the letter, he
found it to be an order of the king, that he
should pay 2500/. of his income yearly to his
grandmother in Paris. Thus, without process,

SPAIN IN 1830. 309

without cause, without any previous intima-
tion made to the Duke of Berwick, without
any opportunity being given to him of object-
ing to this inroad upon his property, he was
deprived, by a dash of the king's pen, of 2500/.
per annum. This was accomplislied by the
intrigue of the duke's grandmother. The
sequel to the story, by which it will be seen
that the duke regained his money, does not in
any respect alter the act of tyranny that de-
prived him of it; but only exemplifies the in-
decision of the king's character. The duchess,
who happened to be a spirited woman, and
who knew the character of the king, imme-
diately ordered her coach, drove to the palace,
asked an audience, saw the king, and returned
in less than an hour with the revocation of the
order in her hand.

While at Seville, I learned some very gross
instances of injustice practised by the govern-
ment in its dealings with its subjects. My
authority could not be more authentic, because
my informant — an old and highly respectable
merchant — was himself the person who had
suffered. A debt of IGOO/. was due to him by
government, upon a contract for supplying

310 SPAIN IN 1830.

cartridge boxes ; this debt had been some
years due, and he had applied for payment
often, and in vain. At length, having some
other business in Madrid, he resolved to at-
tempt the recovery of the debt, by preferring
his claim in the proper quarter. Day after day,
he went to the minister ; sometimes he was
denied admittance, — sometimes he saw the
minister, and was always treated by him with
the utmost rudeness : this was his first trans-
action with government, and he had yet to
learn its way of doing business. One day,
when he was leaving the minister, and slowly
passing towards the stair, a reverend gentle-
man touched his sleeve, and begged to know
what was the cause of his frequent visits to
the minister : the merchant told him his busi-
ness. " And do you expect to receive pay-
ment of the debt ?" demanded the priest. " I
despair of it," replied the merchant. " Then,"
resumed the priest, " you would probably
sacrifice a small part to obtain the rest ;" and
upon the merchant admitting that he would
gladly do this, — " Come," said the priest,
"^ to-morrow early, and I'll undertake that you
shall have your money !" The merchant kept

SPAIN IN 1830. 311

his appointment; the priest was waiting — the
merchant never saw the minister ; and in less
than half an hour, the priest put into his hands
an order for 1200/., upon the treasury at Se-
ville; the remaining 400/. being the perquisite
of the minister and his emissary : — yet even
after this, it was necessary to sacrifice another
100/., before payment of the order could be
obtained at Seville. All this is according to
usual practice : no settlement of any govern-
ment account can be obtained without makinar
a large sacrifice ; sometimes as much as a third,
or even a half. The system of bribery is uni-
versal, from the minister to the lowest official :
sometimes the individual is robbed, sometimes
the treasury. If the transaction lie between the
government and an individual, the minister and
his go-between are the gainers, and the con-
tractor is robbed. If the affair lie between indi-
viduals and employees — as officers of the cus-
toms — afalse return of duties is made to govern-
ment; the merchant and the employee pocket
the difference; and the government is robbed:
this is a regular part of the settlement of every
custom-house transaction. At Malaga, I learnt
a curious instance of this, adding another to

312 SPAIN IN 1830.

the many proofs of a weak and disorganized
government. All vessels chartered from Gib-
raltar for Malta, Corfu, or any foreign port in
the Mediterranean, but carrying part cargo for
Malaga, are obliged, while they remain at
Malaga, to deposit all goods m transitu in the
custom-house, as a preventive against smug-
gling. Such vessels are well known to be
freighted with English goods, or with tobacco,
or with other goods either prohibited, or upon
which high duties are payable : in fact, the
vessel is a smuggler, — and how is this matter
arranged ? The captain deposits a hundred
bales of goods in the custom-house, being the
whole of the goods entered for the foreign port ;
and when the vessel leaves the port, the same
number of bales must be shipped, — and so
they are ; but during their deposit in the
custom-house, they have suffered a wonderful
diminution in bulk. Bales which measured a
yard square, are reduced to the size of foot-
balls ; the bales, such as they are, are re-
shipped ; — the vessel has disburdened herself
of her contraband cargo, and in place of pro-
ceeding to Malta, returns to Gibraltar. I
relate this, not of course as an example of

SPAIN IN 1830. 313

government oppression or injustice, but as a
proof of the lax and unhinged state of the
government, and of the total want of integrity
that pervades every department of the public
service : and before recurring to other in-
stances of government oppression or injustice,
let me mention another incident, proving that
the same system extends even to the army.
A regiment of cavalry arrived at Granada
sometime last spring; and the soldiers being
in want of new spurs, the colonel sent for a
tradesman, and told him what he wanted.
The tradesman named a certain price : " No,"
said the colonel, " you must let me have them
at half that price;" the tradesman agreed,
premising only that the spurs would not last
a week. This was of no importance to the
colonel; the spurs were delivered, the account
was made out at the price first demanded, and
being presented to the government office, the
money was paid ; one half of which went to
the blacksmith, and the other into the pocket
of the colonel.

The following case of extreme hardship was
related to me by an English merchant at
Seville, a man once extremely wealthy, but

314 SPAIN IN 1830.

who has suffered irreparable losses from the
unjust acts of the government. He entered
into a contract with government to supply the
whole accoutrements for 12,000 cavalry. An
order so extensive required great outlay, and
constant attention. The accoutrements were
completed ; and one half, according to the
contract, delivered ; and when the time nearly
approached for the delivery of the remaining
quantity, an intimation was received, that no
more could be taken, because, to please the
people of Madrid, it was necessary to employ
the workmen of the capital. Not only was
there no indemnification made for the breach
of the contract, by which goods to the value
of 36,000/. were thrown upon the merchant's
hands ; but the price of the delivered goods
is to this hour unpaid. Four years have
now elapsed, and he has no expectation of
ever receiving one farthing; the debt being
too large to be adjusted by the sacrifice of
a part.

While I was at Seville, considerable discon-
tent was produced by a most unjust act of the
government. All arrears of taxes due upon
houses for the past thirty years, were claimed

SPAIN IN 1830. 315

from the actual proprietor : the consequence
of which was, that upon the mere shewing of
the government officer, proprietors were forced
to pay arrears for a period in which the house
was in other hands, and even in many cases,
before the actual proprietors were born !

But more flagrant, at least more violent,
acts of injustice and oppression are some-
times committed. After the return of the
king, between two and three hundred persons
who had served in the national volunteers
during the constitution, were seized in Bar-
cellona, and shipped to Ceuta, — the Spanish
Botany Bay, — ^where they now remain. Their
crime was said to be, unadvised talk in the
coffee houses; but this was never ascertained,
because no form of trial was gone through ;
and three years have not elapsed, since a man
was hanged at Barcellona, without any one
knowing what crime he had committed.

The truest proofs of a good government, arc
just laws ; and the best evidence of a well
organized government, is to be found in their
strict execution. Judging the Spanish go-
vernment by these tests, it will appear the
worst and weakest government that ever held

316 SPAIN IN 1830.

together. Justice of no kind, has any exist-
ence ; there is the most lamentable insecurity
of person and property: redress is never certain,
because both judgment, and execution of the
laws, are left to men so inadequately paid,
that they must depend for their subsistence
upon bribery. Nothing is so difficult as to
bring a man to trial who has any thing in his
purse, except to bring him to execution ; this,
unless in Madrid, and in Catalunia, where the
Conde de Espana is captain-general, is impos-
sible ; for money will always buy indemnity.
Every thing in Spain connected with the
following out of the laws, is in the hands of
the escrivanos ; these are the friends of all
bad men : for whatever be the action a man
may commit, or meditate, he has only to con-
fide in the escrivano, and pay for his protec-
tion.

The following remarkable fact, I had from
the lips of an eye-witness, a highly respect-
able American merchant, of Malaga. One day
last winter, two butchers quarrelled in the
market-place, and got to high words ; and one
of them, according to the usual practice in
such cases, put his hand under his girdle, and

SPAIN IN 1830. 317

half drew forth his knife. All the while, an
escrivano, of known talent in his profession — a
man who never allowed any one who confided
in him, to be either tried or executed, stood
close by. While the man still but half shewed
his knife, as if uncertain whether to use it or
no, the escrivano continued to jog him on the
elbow : ** Da /e," (give it him), said the law-
yer, ^'aqui estoy yo i' (don't you see that I am
here, so that no harm can come to you). The
butcher, however, had not been sufficiently
roused, for he put up his knife ; and the
escrivano, turning to him with a look of con-
tempt, said, "Alma miserable!'' (mean-spirited
creature), " and so, for the sake of 400 or 500
reals, you would not revenge yourself upon
your enemy."

Before concluding these examples of a bad,
weak, and tyrannical government, I cannot
refrain from mentioning the case of a man,
who has been in prison ever since the evacu-
ation of Spain by the French army ; and who
has still many years of punishment before him.

Shortly after the Duke D'Angouleme took
possession of Barcellona, the inhabitants were
one morning awoke by the ringing of bells,

318 SPAIN IN 1830.

and other tokens of rejoicing : the cause of
this was soon announced to be, that the Virgin
of Monte Serrate, an image of silver or wood, —
I forget which, — had come to Barcellona, of
her own free will, probably considering herself
more secure there, than in the convent of
Montserrat; and about a year afterwards, when
it became evident that the French intended
no outrage upon the convent, it was given out
that the virgin had signified her intention to
return ; but it was determined, upon this occa-
sion, that she should not be allowed to return
by herself, but that she should be carried with
great pomp. A Catalunian peasant, who stood
in the line of procession, perhaps with better
eye-sight — perhaps with less faith, than his
neighbours, — unfortunately expressed aloud,
the thought that passed through his mind :
*' She 's only made of wood," said he ; — and for
this offence, he was arrested, tried, and con-
demned to ten years' imprisonment in the
citadel !

These various facts will suffice, I think, as
proofs of that which I intended they should
illustrate : the despotism and the weakness of
the Spanish government — the total want of

SPAIN IN 1830. 319

integrity that characterizes all its dealings —
and its absolute inefficiency to execute the
laws, either for its own protection, or for the
redress of others.

Such being the condition of the Spanish
government, we are naturally led to ask our-
selves, "What are its prospects?" Is it to be
expected that a government, without one ele-
ment either of virtue or of strength — without
the physical strength that may long support
a bad government — and without the moral
strength of virtue, will be able long to
maintain itself? One naturally answers, —
" No," the thing cannot be; the whole system
requires ploughing up, and it is impossible
that there should not be a change, and that
speedily! ! But the question is, what change?
After the French revolution broke out, a change
of government in Spain was generally ex-
pected throughout both France and England;
but the expectations upon this subject were
certainly grounded upon an erroneous notion
of the state of public feeling in Spain. I have
no party to serve in giving my opinion ; it is
formed, I think, without prejudice, upon what
I have seen and heard while in the country ;

320 SPAIN IN 1830.

and I feel a confident persuasion, that the
change hoped for by every friend of mankind,
is still at a distance; and that the present
government must yield to the strongest of the
two parties that seek its downfal. Spain, I
believe, has yet to pass through a fiery trial,
before her days of freedom and happiness
arrive : the change first to be expected, is one
from despotism and weakness to greater des-
potism and greater strength : and this will be
a new reign of terror. I am not stating my
own opinion merely, but the opinion of the
most thinking and best informed classes in
Spain — liberals, as well as Carlists and roy-
alists. With many, it is a miracle that the
party of Carlists have not, long ere now,
obtained the upper hand ; a fact only to be
accounted for, from the uncertainty that pre-
vails as to the sentiments of the army. I
recollect reading, in one of the French or
English newspapers, a statement, that about
the time the constitutionalists prepared to
enter Spain, the minister sent for the different
commanding officers of the guards stationed
in Madrid, and demanded of them whether
they could answer for their respective regi-

SPAIN IX 1830. 321

ments ; and that the rej3ly was, they could
answer for themselves only : this statement
was true, but the interpretation put upon the
answer was erroneous. The government had
at that time greater fears of the Carlists than
of the Constitutionalists ; and the meaning of
the officers, when they said they could answer
only for themselves, was not — according to the
interpretation annexed to the statement — that
the troops were supposed to be of liberal sen-
timents, but that it was feared they might be
attached to the Carlists. The conspiracy for
elevating that party, — detected during the
autumn, —cannot be supposed to have crushed
it. I know that after that period, meetings
of its partizans were regularly held ; the in-
trigues of the clergy still continued in active
operation ; and subsequently to that period,
the birth of a princess left the male succession
open to the sons of Don Carlos.

That the probabilities of a change to greater
in place of to less despotism, may be more
obvious, not only the strength and influence
of parties must be looked to, but also the
peculiarities of Spanish character. Viewing

VOL. I. Y

322 SPAIN IN 1830.

the present state of Spain, there appears to
exist a necessity for a more enlightened govern-
ment; and one with difficulty persuades him-
self of the probability of a revolution which
would pull down one despotic government to
raise another more despotic in its place. But
an Englishman would judge very erroneously
of the prospects of Spain, who should measure
Spanish feeling by his own ; and considering
what the people of England would do under
similar circumstances, conclude that Spain
will do likewise. The Spanish government
will fall by its weakness, rather than by its
vices ; it is the prospect of a stronger, not of
a more virtuous government, that incites the
exertions of the Carlists. The mass of the
population of Spain take little heed of the
vices of the government, and are entirely in-
different about political privileges. The
Basque provinces, which are the most en-
lightened, have little to complain of; for they
enjoy a multitude of privileges and exemp-
tions which are well defined, and jealously
maintained : and as for the Spaniard of the
southern provinces, — give him his shade in
summer, and his sunshine in winter ; his to-

SPAIN IN 1830. 323

bacco, his melon, his dates, his bread, and
his wine; give him a hole to creep into, and
put him within sound of a convent bell, and
he asks no more : or if you rise a degree or
two in society, and speak of the respectable
peasant, then give to him his embroidered
jacket, his tasseled hat, his guitar, and his
mqja, (sweetheart, in the dialect of Andalusia),
and it is matter of indifference to him, whether
Spain be ruled by a Caligula or a Titus.

The love of ease and pleasure, and the prone-
ness to indolence that distinguish the charac-
ter of the Spaniard, especially in the provinces
south of Castile ; and his total ignorance of the
uses and nature of political freedom, will yet,
for many years, prove a barrier to the progress
of free institutions in the Peninsula. It is
true that this contentedness with his condi-
tion, — this unripeness for political freedom, —
this ignorance of the claims of his species,
ought not to be alleged as any reason against
the attempt to force free institutions upon
him. It is that very ignorance, that unripe-
ness, that false contentedness, that hasten the
necessity for revolution ; because instruction,
Y 2

324 SPAIN IN 1830.

without which no country can be rendered
fit for the enjoyment of political rights, could
never carry its light to the people, under a
government like that of Spain.

A series of attempts to establish liberal in-
stitutions in Spain may be necessary, before it
be found possible to sustain them ; but I
believe that every new attempt will be at-
tended with fewer obstacles. The most un-
successful struggle against despotism, must
produce good effects : accordingly, I do not
agree in opinion with those who contend, that
the movements of 1812 and 1820, retrograded
the cause of liberty. It is certain, indeed,
that the Spanish liberals then attempted im-
possibilities ; they based the constitution upon
principles of liberty, which Spain, nursed so
long in despotism, was unable to support;
yet the glimpse which Spain then caught of
the light of freedom, — the knowledge that was
conveyed through the medium of a free press
to every part of the kingdom, and especially
to all ranks in the metropolis, — and the unre-
strained interchange of sentiment, opened the
eyes of many, and prepared all, for a future
and wiser attempt. Such an attempt may

SPAIN IN 1830. 325

yet be at some distance ; a more despotic, but
a more vigorous government, may be able to
repress, for some years, the declaration of
principles hostile to those by which it is main-
tained : but opinion will advance neverthe-
less ; and the epoch will certainly arrive in
the history of Spain, — as it must in all countries
in which government stands still, — when men's
opinions, which change, clash with institu-
tions which change not.

The attempt upon the Spanish frontier
which followed the revolution in France,
would scarcely deserve notice, but for the
ignorance which it shewed of the state of
public feeling in Spain. I was then in Madrid ;
and I think 1 may venture to say, that this
movement created less sensation in Spain
than in any other country in Europe. An
attempt far better organized, could not at that
time have met with any success. The plans
of the Carlists were then advancing; and the
party was becoming every day more a subject
of embarrassment and alarm to the govern-
ment ; but the views of that party were a
sufficient security against the designs of the
other, whose ascendancy would at once have

326 SPAIN IN 1830.

annihilated the hopes of the Carlists, It
was therefore sufficiently obvious, that if the
aspect of things on the frontier became formid-
able, the interest of the Carlists would lie in
strengthening the hands of government. But
all the well-informed classes, of whatever
party, looked upon the attempt as ill advised,
and certain of failure. I conversed at that
time with many persons of liberal sentiments,
who, with scarcely an exception, deprecated
the attempt as rash and useless ; and ex-
pressed deep regret that so many unfortunate
men should expose themselves to the merciless
policy of the government. It was well known,
that both the Basque Provinces and Cata-
lunia, — the two points at which the entry was
made, — were to be depended upon for their
loyalty, or their ultraism — sentiments alike
hostile to the liberals. The Basque Provinces,
which enjoy peculiar privileges, were the least
interested in the liberal cause ; and Catalunia,
one of the strong- holds of the Carlists, was
governed by the Conde de Espafia, whose great
experience, staunch loyalty, and decided cha-
racter, are always considered a guarantee for
the tranquillity of Catalunia. It was never

SPAIN IN 1830. 327

contemplated by the Spanish Government, to
meet the attempt by any other weapon than
force ; and even if the strength of the Consti-
tutionalists had been far more formidable, and
their success far more probable, conciliatory
measures w^ould have been impossible ; it is
perfectly understood that any act of the go-
vernment savouring of liberalism, would at
once be sealing it over to the power of the
Carlists.

The result was as all had anticipated : no
indication of favourable feeling, on the part of
the peasantry, attended the movements of the
invading force ; and without this, it was im-
possible that it could maintain itself. The
events that took place upon the frontier, were
probably better known in England than in
Spain : at all events, it does not fall in with
my object to enter into a detail of them.

CHAPTER X.

THE ESCURIAL— ST. ILDEFONSO— SEGOVIA.

Journey from Madrid; First View of the Escurial ; Philip II.;
Situation of the Escurial; the Chuixh; Lucas Jordan; the
Relics ; the Santa Forma ; the Sacristy and its Pictures ; a
Reverie ; the Hall of Recreation ; the Library ; the Tomb
of the Kings ; the Manuscript Library ; Ignorance and Idle-
ness of the Monks, and Anecdotes ; Manner of Life among
the Monks; the Palace; Particulars of the Extent and Cost
of the Escurial ; Pedestrian Journey across the Sierra Guader-
rama to St. Ildefonso ; the Palace, Waters, and Garden of
La Granja; Road to Segovia ; its Remains, and Present
Condition ; Expensiveness of Royal Honours ; Return to
Madrid.

Before leaving Castile for Andalusia, I made
two excursions, to objects well deserving a
visit, — the Escurial and Toledo. To the for-
mer of these, I shall dedicate the present
chapter.

SPAIN IN 18:50. 329

Having hired a mule und a guide, I left
Madrid one charming morning, before day-
break; and passing out of the city by the gate
de San Vincente, I proceeded up the bank of
the river Manzanares along a good road, bor-
dered on both sides by poplars and willows.
From this road, the palace is a striking and
beautiful object ; and the sun rising shortly
after I had passed the gate, its blaze reflected
from the innumerable windows, produced a
magnificent and almost magical eftect. A
league from the city, the road, crossing the
river, leaves the stripe of scanty herbage that
borders it, and enters upon the wide arid
country, that extends all the way to the foot
of the Sierra Guaderrama. Travelling in any
direction from Madrid, there is little to nar-
rate ; the country is wholly devoid of interest;
there is scarcely any population; and no tra-
vellers are seen on the road, to relieve its
monotony, or attract the attention.

During four leagues, the road continues to
ascend almost imperceptibly, and then climbs
the first of those ridges, that are connected
with the outposts of the Sierra Guaderrama.
From the lop of the ridge, about four leagues

330 SPAIN IN 1830.

and a half from Madrid, the Escurial is first
seen reposing at the foot of the dark moun-
tain that forms its back ground ; and although
still fourteen miles distant, it appears in all
that colossal magnitude that has helped to
earn for it the reputation of being the ninth
wonder of the world. Between this point and
the village of San Lorenzo, there is nothing to
interest, excepting the constant view of the
Escurial, increasing in extent, rising in eleva-
tion, and growing in magnificence, as the
summit of every succeeding ridge discloses a
nearer view of it. After a ride of seven hours
and a half, I arrived in front of the Escurial a
little after mid-day ; and dismissing my mule.
I immediately presented myself at the gate
with my credentials. These were, a letter
from the Marquesa de Valleverde, to El muy
Rev. Padre Buendia; and another from the
Saxon minister, to the Librarian to the Grand
Duke of Hesse Darmstadt, M. Feder, who had
been for several months resident in the Escu-
rial, employed in collating some classical
works. The monks being then at dinner, I
declined interrupting the enjoyment of the
Father Buendia, and was ushered into a small

SPAIN IN 1830. 331

apartment in one of the angles opposite to the
Sierra, where I remained about a quarter of
an hour, while the monks continued their
repast.

Most persons know that the Escurial was
erected by that renowned monarch, Philip II.,
— renowned for his vices, his bigotry, and his
ambition. The reasons assigned by PhiHp for
the erection of this building are three-fold: — as
a token of gratitude to God, on account of the
victory gained over the French at St. Quintin ;
as an act of devotion towards the holy martyr
San Lorenzo ; and in fulfilment of the wish
expressed in the last will of Charles V., that a
sepulchre should be erected wherein to de-
posit the bones of himself and the empress,
the parents of Philip II. Another, and less
ostensible reason assigned by this religious
monarch, was that he might be able to retire
at times from the turmoil of the court ; and in
the seclusion of a royal monastery, profit by
the lessons of holy men, and meditate upon
theinstability of worldly grandeur: and Philip
shewed in his practice the apparent sincerity
of this motive ; for he was wont often to be an
inmate of the Escurial ; and traits of his dc-

332 SPAIN IN 1830

votion and humiiity are yet related within its
walls.

The situation chosen for the Escurial accords
well with the gloomy character of its royal
founder. There is no town or city nearer to it
than Madrid, which is thirty-four miles dis-
tant ; a wild and deserted country forms its
horizon ; and the dark defiles and the brown
ridges of the Sierra Guaderramn are its cradle.
In the building itself, Philip royally acquitted
himself of his vows; for a structure so stu-
pendous in its dimensions, or so surpassing
in its internal riches, is nowhere to be found.
The building was begun in the year 1563,
under the direction of Juan Bautista de To-
ledo, and finished in 1584; Juan de Herrera
presiding over the work during several years
preceding its completion.

My meditations were interrupted by the
welcome entrance of Father Buendia, whom I
found an agreeable and rather intelligent man,
although a great worshipper of the memory
of Philip II. I was first conducted into the
church of the monastery, which certainly ex-
ceeds in richness and magnificence any thing
that I had previously imagined. It is quite

SPAIN IN 1830. 333

impossible to enter into minute descriptions of
all that composes this magnificence : the
riches of Spain, and her ancient colonies,
are exhausted in the materials ; — marbles,
porphyries, jaspers, of infinite variety, and of
the most extraordinary beauty, — gold, silver,
and precious stones ; and the splendid effect
of the whole is not lessened by a nearer in-
spection ; there is no deception, no glitter, —
all is real. The vv^hole of the altar-piece in
the Capilla Mayor, upM'ards of ninety feet high
and fifty broad, is one mass of jasper, por-
phyry, marble, and bronze gilded ; the eighteen
pillars that adorn it, each eighteen feet high,
are of deep red and green jasper, and the
intervals are of porphyry and marble of the
most exquisite polish, and the greatest variety
of colour. It is, in fact, impossible to turn
the eye in any direction in which it does
not rest upon the rarest and richest treasures
of nature, or the most excellent works of art ;
for if it be withdrawn from the magnificence
below, by the splendour of the ceiling above,
it discovers those admirable frescos of Lucas
Jordan, which have earned for him the charac-
ter of a second Angelo. It would be tedious to

334 SPAIN IN 1830.

enlarge upon the subject of Jordan's frescos ;
they are too numerous indeed to be described
within the limits of a chapter ; but they com-
prise, it may be said, the whole history of the
Christian Religion, beginning from the Pro-
mises, and are excelled only by the works of
Angelo. The battle of St. Quintin, which
ornaments the ceiling of the great stair-case,
is considered to be one of the most excellent
of Jordan's frescos.

Lucas Jordan was born at Naples in the year
1632. His father chanced to live near Espa-
naletto, who was then in Italy ; and Jordan,
from infancy, was constantly in his neighbour's
workshop. At nine years old, he is said to
have made great progress ; and at fourteen he
ran away from his father's house, and went to
Rome, where, it is said, his father following
him, found him in the Vatican copying Michael
Angelo's Last Judgment. At Rome he was the
disciple of Pietro de Cortona; and he after-
wards visited Florence, Bologna, Parma, and
Venice, where he improved himself upon the
style of Paul Veronese. Subsequently he
went to Rome; but unable to forget Veronese,
he again returned to Venice, w^here he re-

SPAIN IN 1830. 335

niained until called to Florence, in 1G57, to
paint the cupola of the Capilla Corsini in the
church of Carmine. He was afterwards in-
vited to Spain by Charles II., and arrived in
Madrid in 1692 ; and from that time until his
death, his genius was employed in enriching
the palaces and convents of Spain, particularly
the Escurial.

Having satisfied my curiosity with the
church, and the frescos, I wished Father
Buendia to conduct me to the sacristy, where
are to be seen those glorious creations of the
pencil, which have added the charm of beauty,
to the grandeur and magnificence of the Escu-
rial. But my conductor led me first to the
relicary, whose contents were perhaps more
valuable in his eyes than those of the sacristy.
In this relicary, there were five hundred and
fifteen vases before the invasion of the French ;
but their number is now reduced to four hun-
dred and twenty-two. These vases are of
gold, silver, bronze gilded, and valuable wood;
many of them thickly studded with precious
stones: and upwards of eighty of the richest
of these vases still remain. But the French,
more covetous of the eold and silver than of the

336 SPAIN IN 1830.

relics, made sad confusion of the latter; for
not caring to burden themselves with bones,
and wood, and dirty garments, they emptied
the little gold and silver vases upon the floor, —
irreligiously mingling in one heap, relics of
entirely different value. The labels indicating
the relics having been upon the vases, the
bones, &c. were without any distinguishing
mark; so that it was impossible to discriminate
between an arm of St. Anthonj'-, and the arm
of St. Teresa, — or to know a bit of the true
cross, from a piece of only a martyr's cross, —
or a garment of the Virgin Sin Pecada, from
one of only the Virgin of Rosalio : and as for
the smaller relics, — parings of nails, hair, &c.
many were irrecoverably lost. But with all
this confusion, and all these losses, the Escu-
rial is still rich in relics. Several pieces of
the true cross yet remain ; a bit of the rope
that bound Christ ; two thorns of the crown ;
a piece of the sponge that was dipped in
vinegar; parts of His garments, and a fragment
of the manger in v^hich he was laid. Making
every allowance for bigotry and excess of ill-
directed faith, I cannot comprehend the feel-
ing that attaches holiness to some of these

SPAIN IN 1830. 337

relics : it is impossible to understand what
kind of sacredness that is, which belongs to
articles that have been the instruments of
insult to the Divine Being. Besides these
relics of our Saviour, there are several parts
of the garments of the Virgin; there are ten
entire skeletons of saints and martyrs ; the
body of one of the innocents, massacred by
command of Herod ; and upwards of a hun-
dred heads of saints, martyrs, and holy men ;
besides numerous other bones still distinguish-
able.

But the peculiar glory of the Escurial, and
its most wondrous relic, is the Santa Forma,
as it is called ; in reality, " the wafer," in
which the Deity has been pleased to manifest
himself in three streaks of blood; thus proving
the doctrine of transubstantiation. This relic
has been deemed worthy of a chapel and an
altar to itself. These are of extraordinary
beauty and richness ; and adorned with the
choicest workmanship: jaspers, marble, and
silver are the materials ; and bas reliefs^ in
white marble, relate the history of the Santa
Forma ; which is shortly this. It was origin-

VOL. I. z

338 SPAIN IN 1830.

ally in the cathedral church of Gorcum in
Holland, and certain heretics (Zuinglianos)
entering the church, took this consecrated
host, threw it on the ground, trod upon the
it, and cracked it in three places. God, to
shew his divine displeasure, and at the same
time, as a consolation to the christians, mani-
fested himself in three streaks of blood, which
appeared at each of the cracks. One of the
heretics, struck with the miracle, and re-
penting of his crime, lifted the Santa Forma
from the ground, and deposited it, along with
a record of the miracle, in a neighbouring con-
vent of Franciscans, who kept and venerated
it long ; the delinquent, who abjured his
heresy, and who had taken the habit, being-
one of their number. From this convent it
was translated to Vienna, and then to Prague;
and there its peregrinations terminated : for
Philip II. being a better Catholic than the
Emperor Rodolph, prevailed upon the latter
to part with it, and deposited it in the Es-
curial ; where it has ever since remained. It
had a narrow escape from being again trodden
upon, during the French invasion : upon the
approach of the enemy it was hastily snatched

SPAIN IN 1830. 339

from the sacred depositary, and unthinkingly
hid in a wine butt, where it is said to have ac-
quired some new, and less miraculous stains :
and after the departure of the French, a solemn
festival was proclaimed on the 14th of October,
1814; upon which occasion, his present ma-
jesty, assisted by all his court, and by half the
friars of Castile, rescued the Santa Forma from
its inglorious concealment, and deposited it
again in the chapel which the piety of Charles
II. had erected for it. The Santa Forma is
not shewn to heretics ; but its history is re-
lated : and it was evident, by the manner of
the friar who related it to me, that he placed
implicit belief in the miraculous stains.

Besides the general relicary and the peculiar
chai)el for the Santa Forma, there is another
smaller relicary, called the Camarin, into
which Father Buendia conducted me. Here
I was shewn an earthen pitcher, one of those
which contained the water that Jesus turned
into wine ; and affixed to the pitcher, there is
a writing, narrating the manner in which the
vessel found its way into the Escurial. I was
also shewn three caps of Pope Pius V. ; and a

7. 2

340 SPAIN IN 1830.

stone which was taken from his Holiness'
bladder ; besides several manuscripts written
by the hand of St. Teresa, and St. Augustin ;
and the ink-horn of the former saint.

I might still have been gratified by the sight
of more relics; but I was anxious to visit the
sacristy, which contains relics of another kind.
The sacristy itself, in its walls, roof, and floor,
equals in beauty, any part of the Escurial ;
but the beauty of jaspers and precious stones,
and the excellent workmanship of many rare
and beautiful woods, are unheeded, where
attractions are to be found so far excelling
them. It is in the sacristy of the Escurial,
where the choicest works of the most illustrious
painters of the great schools are preserved ;
and of these we may say, what can rarely be
said of any collection, that among the forty-
two pictures that adorn the sacristy, there is
not one that is not a chef (Tceuvre. Among
these, there are three of Raphael, one of them
known all over the world by the name of La
Perla ; two of Leonardo da Vinci ; six of
Titian, and many of Tintoretto, Guido, Ve-
ronese, and other eminent masters. La Perla
represents the Virgin embracing the infant

SPAIN IN 1830. 341

Jesus, with her right arm round his body, while
he rests his feet upon her knee ; the Virgin's
left hand lies upon the shoulder of Saint Anne,
who kneels at her daughter's side ; her elbow
resting upon her knee, and her head supported
by her hand. The child, St. John, offers fruits
to the infant Christ in his little garment of
camel-skin ; and Jesus accepting them, turns
at the same time his smiling face towards his
mother, who is looking at St. John. Such is
the subject of La Perla, a picture that would
have placed Raphael where he now stands
among the illustrious dead, even if he had never
painted the Transfiguration, — any critique upon
a painting of Raphael would be impertinent.
While I was occupied with the treasures of
the sacristy, a bell rang for prayers ; and as it
was contrary to the rules of the monastery to
leave the door of the sacristy open, I was
locked in, while Father Buendia went to his
devotions. This was precisely the most agree-
able thing that could have happened : a large
chair, which looked as old as the days of Philip
II., stood below the altar of the Santa Forma ;
and drawing it into the middle of the sacristy,
and sitting down, I spent the next half-hour

342 SPAIN IN 1830.

luxuriously ; not as might have been ima-
gined, in admiration of the immortal works
around me ; but in a waking dream, that carried
me away from the Escurial, and back to the
days of boyhood, when throwing aside my
Horace, I used to seize an old book, which I
have never seen since then, called " Swin-
burne's Travels," and devour the descriptions
of the Escurial ; its immensity, its riches, its
monks, its tomb of the kings, — not its pictures,
for I was then ignorant of even the name of
Raphael, — but this knowledge came later,
and all was blended together in this delicious
reverie, which was in fact a vision of the Es-
curial, as imagination had pictured it in bygone
days. But the great key, entering the door,
annihilated twenty years, and brought me
where I was, seated in the great chair in the
sacristy of the Escurial ; and after another
glance at the pictures, I followed Father
Buendia to the old church and the cloister;
but in passing to these, we entered the Hall
of Recreation, or as it is called. La Sala
Prioral. Here the monks assemble^at cer-
tain hours, to converse, and enjoy each
other's society ; and for this pujpose, they

SPAIN IN 1830. 343

have made choice of the most comfortable
room in the monastery. Although in Spain,
and only the beginning of September, a stove
was lighted ; benches, and even some stuffed
chairs, were scattered here and there. The
windows look over the garden and fish-ponds,
from which, on meagre days, the worthy fathers
contrive to eke out a repast ; and the walls of
the hall are adorned by some most choice pic-
tures by Peregrini, Guercino, Titian, Guido ;
among others, a half-clothed Magdalen, by
Titian, — scarcely a suitable study for these
holy men ; and, ** Magdalen at the Feet of
Jesus:" ascribed to Correggio, but which,
Mengs, in his notices of the life and works of
Correggio, supposes to have been left imper-
fect by that master, and to have been finished
by another hand : but it is, at all events, a
charming picture.

From the Sala Prloral, we went to the Iglcsia
Viga, which is remarkable only on account of
its pictures ; among which, is one of Raphael :
and from the Iglesia Vieja, I was next con-
ducted through the cloisters, also adorned
with pictures, to the great Library. This is a
magnificent room ; the ceilings in fresco, by

344 SPAIN IN 1830.

Peregrini and Carducho, represent the pro-
gress of the sciences ; the floor is of chequered
grey and white marble ; and the finest and
rarest woods encase the windows, the doors,
and the books. The library is more curious
than extensive ; it does not contain more than
24,000 volumes, but many of these are scarce;
and among others, they shew a copy of the
Apocalypse of St. John, with a commentary,
and illuminated borders, and the devotional
exercises of Charles V., &c. The day was
almost spent before I reached the library ;
the light streamed but dimly through the deep
windows ; and the portraits of Charles, and
his son, — the gloomy-minded founder of the
monastery, — frowned darkly from the walls.
It was too late to examine the Manuscript
Library; and making an appointment with
Father Buendia for the morning, I left the
Escurial for the Posada, where I had ordered
a bed, and a late dinner. I was offered both
refreshments and a bed, in the monastery ;
but having a better opinion of the dinner I had
ordered than of a supper in the refectory, (for
it chanced to be Friday), I forced an excuse
upon the reverend father.

SPAIN IN 1830. 345

Although it was ahiiost niglit within the
Escurial, I found day without. It was yet
too early to expect dinner at the Posada; and
therefore, skirting the small straggling village
of San Lorenzo, I climbed up among the defiles
and ridges of the sierra that forms the back-
ground to the monastery and its tributary
village. The sun had already set, and dusk
was creeping over the distant landscape ; and,
excepting the vast and magnificent building
below, there was scarcely a trace of human
existence, for a ridge of the sierra shut out
the little village of San Lorenzo : and the only
sound I heard, was the bell from the monas-
tery. To me, there is nothing poetic in a
convent bell ; it only reminds me of bigotry
and ignorance, absurd penance, or sinful hypo-
crisy. It was almost dark before I reached
the Posada, where I had the pleasure of pass-
ing an agreeable evening with M. Feder,
whom I have spoken of already, and must
always speak of, as a learned and an amiable
man.

Next morning, I again claimed the good
offices of Father Buendia, and was conducted
by him to "the Tomb of the Kings;" per-

346 SPAIN IN 1830.

haps the most magnificent sepulchre in the
world. It is impossible to conceive any thing
more gorgeous than this mausoleum : the de-
scent is by a deep staircase, underneath the
great altar of the church ; the walls of the
staircase being entirely of blood-jasper, of the
utmost beauty and polish. The mausoleum
itself is circular ; the walls are of jasper, and
black marble : and in rows, one over another,
are ranged the coffins of the kings of Spain.
They are all here, these masters of a hemi-
sphere ! a little dust in these gorgeous urns, is
all that remains of the mighty kings whose
deeds fill volumes — of Charles, who kept the
world in a flame, and left it for a cloister, — of
Philip, for whose ambition and crimes it was
too narrow. Death certainly owns no other
palace like this. The queens of Spain are not
all here ; only those who have given birth to
an heir to the throne. There are eight kings,
and eight queens, on opposite sides of the
mausoleum ; and a splendid urn stands empty
and open, destined to receive the present in-
heritor of the throne, who, when he visits the
Escurial, never fails to enter his tomb, there to
receive, if not to profit by, a lesson upon the

SPAIN IN 1830. 347

duties of kings, and the common destinies of
all. A lamp, always burning, is suspended
from the centre of the mausoleum, giving just
sufficient light to make legible the names of
its owners, inscribed in gold letters upon a
bronze tablet. I did not enter the Pantheon
of the Infantas, which contains no fewer than
fifty- nine urns.

From the mausoleum, I was conducted to
the Manuscript library, which is far more
valuable than the other. Although, previous
to the conflagration in 1671, it contained many
more treasures than it does now, it is still one
of the most valuable manuscript libraries in
Europe. The number of manuscripts yet pre-
served there, exceeds 4000 ; nearly one half
of the whole being Arabic, and the rest in
Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and the vulgar tongues.
I shall name a very few of the most remark-
able. There are two copies of the Iliad, of
the tenth and twelfth centuries ; but these
are not scarce ; and indeed, a very great
number of the manuscripts are copies of origi-
nals preserved in the libraries of Italy. There
are many fine and ancient Bibles, particularly
in Greek ; and one Latin copy of the Gosi)els,

348 SPAIN IN 1830.

of the eleventh century. There are two books
of ancient councils, in Gothic characters, and
illuminated ; the one of the year 976, called
the Codigo Vigilano, because written by a
monk called Vigilia; the other of the year
994, written by a priest named Velasco. A
very ancient Koran is also shewn ; and a work
of some value, written in six large volumes, as
it is said by the command of Philip II., upon
the Revenues and Statistics of Spain. But
the most ancient manuscript is one of poetry,
written in the Longobardic, and dated as far
back as the ninth century. The Arabic manu-
scripts are also many and curious ; and the
manner in which these came into the hands
of the Spaniards was accidental. Pedro de
Lara being at sea, met some vessels carrying
the equipage of the Moorish king Zidian :
these vessels he fought with, and took ; and
found among other precious things, more than
three thousand Arabic manuscripts. The
Moorish king, subsequently offered sixty
thousand ducats for their restitution ; but the
overture was rejected, and restitution was pro-
mised only on condition that the whole of the
Christian captives should be released ; but

SPAIN IN 1830. 349

this demand not being complied with, the
manuscripts were sent to the Escurial.

The monks of the Escurial live too much at
their ease to acquire habits of study. The
monks in the olden time were not altogether
useless ; for to their industry and perseverance
we owe the preservation and multiplication
of many of the most esteemed authors of anti-
quity : but the friars of the present day have
sadly degenerated ; they make no use of the
treasures which their convents contain ; and
of this truth, the monks of the Escurial afford
a lamentable example. A gentleman with
whom I am acquainted, and who passed the
whole of every day during three months in the
library of the Escurial, assured me that all
that time, not one friar ever entered to ask for,
or examine a book. I am acquainted with
another proof of the ignorance or idleness of
the monks of the Escurial. A literary society
in one of the German states, being desirous of
publishing the works of the elder Pliny, and
believing that some assistance might be ob-
tained from the library of the Escurial, applied
to the Spanish government upon the subject ;
and orders were accordingly given to the libra-

350 SPAIN IN 1830.

rian of the Escurial, to search, and to report
upon the works of Pliny contained in the
library. An answer was given, that it con-
tained no complete or useful work of Pliny, —
but only an abbreviation. A literary gentle-
man, however, from the same German state,
having obtained access to the library for other
purposes, found two perfect copies of Pliny's
Natural History. It is scarcely possible to
suppose that the librarian could have been
ignorant of the existence of these ; and the
only alternative therefore is, that he denied
any knowledge of them, from the dread of
receiving some command that might interfere
with his love of idleness.

At present there are one hundred monks in
the monastery of the Escurial ; and from all
that I could learn, they have no great reason
to complain of their lot. The order of St. Ge-
ronimo, to which they belong, is not one of the
strict orders : it allows a good table and un-
interrupted rest ; and prescribes few fasts, and
probably no penance. Each monk has at least
two apartments, and a small kitchen where a
little refresco may be prepared at any time,
without troubling the cooks below. There are

SPAIN IN 1830. 351

many fine terraces round the building, and a
tolerably shady garden, where the fathers have
the benefit of air, without hard exercise ; and
in the fish ponds, there is an inexhaustible
source of amusement, in which the kino- when
he visits the Escurial, condescends to join
every day after dinner. I saw no monk, who
did not seem contented ; and although with
the opportunities which they enjoy, they are
both idle and ignorant, I found them tolerably
well informed upon common topics, and greatly
interested in the news of the day. It would
seem, however, that they have not much access
to know what passes in the world ; for one of
their number preferred a request to me, that
before leaving Madrid, I would write him a
letter containing the latest news from France,
and from the frontier : scarcely any one but a
monk dared have made such a request; but
the friars are a privileged class.

The palace adjoining the monastery, is
scarcely worth a visit after seeing the magnifi-
cence of the latter: any where else, it would
be a splendid edifice. I merely walked through
the apartments. Altogether, although the Es-
curial be scarcely entitled to the appellation

352 SPAIN IN 1830.

of the ninth wonder of the world ; it is confess-
edly the most wonderful edifice in Europe,
whether in dimensions or riches. To give
some better idea of these, than a general de-
scription can convey, I shall add the following
short enumeration.

In the Escurial, there are fifty-one bells ;
forty-eight wine cellars ; eighty staircases ;
seventy-three fountains ; eight organs ; twelve
thousand windows and doors ; and eighteen
hundred and sixty rooms. There are fifteen hun-
dred and sixty oil paintings ; and the frescos,
if all brought together, would form a square of
eleven hundred feet. The circumference of
the building, is 4800 feet — nearly three quar-
ters of a mile.

From a book kept in the monastery, con-
taining an account of the sums expended on
the building, &c., I made the following ex-
tracts, which may be esteemed by some, as
curious. The mason-work of the monastery
cost 5,512,054 reals ; the marbles, porphyries,
and jasper employed on the church, cost
5,343,825 reals; the labour of placing each
square on the floor, thirteen reals ; the painting
of the church, including the frescos of Jordan,

SPAIN IN 1830. 353

291,270 reals; the organs 295,997 reals ; the
workmanship of the choir (the king having pre-
sented the wood) 206,200 reals; the two hun-
dred and sixteen volumes used in the choir,
493,284 reals ; the whole of the bronze railings
556,828 reals ; the wood, lead, bells and gilding
of the church, 3,200,000 reals ; the paintings of
the library, 199,822 reals ; the ornaments of the
sacristy, 4,400,000 reals ; the materials of the
mausoleum, 1,826,031 reals. This is but a
very small part of the cost of the edifice,
because here are none of the gold and silver
ornaments, urns, or precious stones ; none of
the bronze, except the railings ; none of the
oil paintings ; nor almost any part of the work-
manship. I have stated the cost in reals, as it
appears in the book ; but any of the sums
divided by 100, will give the value in pounds
sterling nearly, though not precisely.

After having seen all that merits observation
in the interior of the building, I walked over
the terraces and gardens, where I met many
of the holy fathers taking their evening prome-
nade, several with segars in their mouths ; and
then leaving the garden, 1 extended my walk

VOL. I. 2 a

354 SPAIN IN 1830.

to a country house which the present kmg
built and adorned : there is nothing regal about
the place, excepting a picture of his majesty.

My intention being to pass the Sierra Gua-
darrama to visit St. Ildefonso and Segovia, I
inquired for a mule at the village where I
slept ; but the price demanded was so ex-
orbitant — no less than six dollars each day,
besides the maintenance of the guide — that I
resolved to save the expense altogether, by
being a pedestrian, and my own guide. This
determination, I however kept to myself, be-
cause it is never prudent in Spain, to pub-
lish an intention of making a solitary journey.

Next morning, I left the Escurial at the
earliest dawn; and following the only road I
saw leading to the North, I soon found myself
ascending among the ridges of the Sierra.
The sun rose when 1 had walked about an
hour. The morning was fresh, and even chill ;
but the sky was blue and cloudless, the sun-
shine bright, and the air bracing and elastic ;
the road, too, became more interesting as I
ascended higher, — entering into the heart of
the mountain, and abounding in those moun-
tain views, which have so many charms be-

SPAIN IN 1830. 355

yond the dull monotony of a plain. I did not
meet a single traveller during" the first three
hours ; and I passed three crosses, one of
them recording a murder committed so lately
as the year 1828, upon a merchant of Segovia.
About four leagues from the Escurial, I passed
a small house, situated in a little hollow, at a
short distance from the road : and althouirh 1
should have been glad to rest awhile, and take
what refreshment the house afforded, its situa-
tion was so solitary, and the scenery around
so desolate, that I judged it safer to continue
my journey. Shortly after passing this house,
I reached the Puerto de Fuenfria, the summit
of the Sierra; taking its name, "Pass of the
Cold Fountain," from some icy springs that
bubble near ; from one of which I took a long
and refreshing draught. The scenery here is
of the wildest description. The mountain is
full of deep cuts and ravines, most of them
the courses of winter torrents ; aged and
stunted pines hang upon their edges, and are
strewn upon the brown acclivities around ;
while bare, huge, misshapen rocks project
over the path, and often force it to skirt the
brink of giddy and undefended precipices.
2 A 2

356

SPAIN IN 1830,

When the Pass lays open the view to the north
of the Sierra, the prospect is fine and extensive ;
but anxious to reach St. Ildefonso, I scarcely
paused to survey it ; and in less than two
hours more, I delivered my letter to Don
Mateo Frates, governor of the palace.

The palace of St. lldefonso, or as it is more
commonly called in Spain, La Granja, was
built by Philip V., who undoubtedly made a
better choice than his predecessor, the founder
of the Escurial ; for if a cool breeze is any
where to be found in Spain during the heat of
summer, it is at St. lldefonso that it must be
sought. It is placed in a spot where the
mountains fall back, leaving a recess sheltered
from the hot air of the south, and from much of
its sun ; but exposed to whatever breeze may be
wafted from the north. The immediate accli-
vity towards the south, is occupied by the
garden, which, although somewhat formal in
the immediate neighbourhood of the palace, is
full of shade and coolness. Almost every one
has heard of the waters of La Granja ; these
were politely oifered to be displayed for my
amusement; but artificial water- works have
no great charms for me ; and besides, when

SPAIN IN 1830. 357

we see the fountains, it is not difficult to fancy
the play of the waters. I have no doubt, how-
ever, that the effect is striking ; and during
the heats of summer, so many jets must pro-
duce an agreeable influence upon the sur-
rounding atmosphere. The fountains and falls
are innumerable ; one of them, Fame seated
on Pegasus, raises a jet to the height of one
hundred and thirty- two feet ; and in another
spot, called the Plazuela de las ocho Calles,
eight fountains unite, forming a beautiful and
chaste temple of the Ionic order, adorned by
columns of white marble. The expense of
constructing the garden of La Granja has been
enormous ; it has generally been computed
to amount to upwards of seven millions ster-
ling.

The principal front of the palace faces the
garden ; it is one hundred and eighty yards
long, and in every respect palace-like ; but it
struck me as being too large, too formal, and
too fine, to be in perfect keeping with the sur-
rounding scenery ; the wild defiles of the
Sierra Guadarrama required a different kind
of palace. The interior is in every thing regal ;

358 SPAIN IN 1830.

and is adorned by some choice works of the
first masters ; though many which formerly
belonged to this palace have been removed to
the Madrid museum.

In speaking of St. Ildefonso, let me not
omit to mention the renowned manufactory of
mirrors ; which are, at all events, the largest,
if not the finest in the world. The mould in
which the largest are made, is thirteen feet
and a half one way, seven feet nine inches the
other, and six inches deep. Some of the
mirrors made at St. Ildefonso, have found
their way into most of the royal palaces of
Europe.

I supped luxuriously upon venison, and ac-
cepted a bed in the palace ; but before retiring
to it, I had the pleasure of partaking of a bot-
tle of Valde Penas from the king's cellar. This
is a wine of which no idea can be formed,
judging of it by the samples commonly found
either in the public or private houses of Ma-
drid. Like many other of the Spanish wines,
it requires age to mellow it ; and it has be-
sides most commonly acquired, less or more,
a peculiar flavour from the skins in which

SPAIN IN 1830. 359

it is brought from La Maiicha. The king's
wine is no doubt carried in some other
fashion.

Segovia is only two leagues from La Granja,
and I had intended to have been there to an
early breakfast; but whether it be that one
sleeps sounder in a palace than elsewhere, or
that Val de Penas is of a soporific quality, it
is certain, that in place of awaking as usual
before day-break, half the mountain was
bathed in sunbeams when I looked out of my
window. I found a good breakfast of coffee
and its adjuncts (a rare luxury in Spain)
waiting me below ; and I also found that a
horse and a servant were in readiness to facili-
tate my transport to Segovia. I would will-
ingly have dispensed with this kindness ; for
although I have no objection to a horse,
guides and attendants of every kind arc my
abhorrence ; but there was no escape, — and I
left La Granja mounted and escorted.

The road betwixt La Granja and Segovia,
is particularly pleasing : it lies along the ridges
of the Sierra, — ascending and descending,
and catching every moment chaiining views
both of mountain scenerv, and of a more cul-

360 SPAIN IN 1830.

tivated and living landscape. The morning
was beautiful, even for Spain, v^here all the
mornings are beautiful ; and I went no faster
on my royal charger than if I had been on
foot, — often pausing to admire the surrounding
prospects : these did not rise into the sublime,
nor could they be classed with the beautiful
or the romantic ; but they were varied and
agreeable — soothing and exhilarating by turns :
deep silent valleys, running up into the moun-
tains, spotted with pine, and covered with the
enamel of beauteous heaths ; streams, glanc-
ing like liquid silver, or spreading over little
hollows, gleaming like mirrors set in a rugged
frame ; smooth knolls, grown over with aromatic
plants and flowering shrubs ; and herds of
gentle deer, raising their heads, advancing at
a short run, and then stopping to gaze at me
as I passed by. These deer, however, so
beautiful to look at, are a scourge to this part
of the country, which is in most parts sus-
ceptible of cultivation ; and which, but for the
license allowed these favourite animals, might
yield an abundant produce.

The first sight of the celebrated aqueduct
disappointed me ; because it merges imper-

SPAIN IN 1830. 361

ceptibly among the houses ; but if contem-
plated in its individual parts, and followed
throughout its range, it rises into that conse-
quence which has been universally accorded
to it. It contains no fewer than one hundred
and fifty-nine arches ; its length is seven
hundred and fifty yards; and the height, in
crossing the valley, is ninety-five feet. I will
not, however, avow an enthusiasm which I
did not feel. The celebrated aqueduct of
Segovia failed to make so strong an impression
upon me as the Pont de Garde, near Nismes.
This I must ever look upon as one of the most
majestic and striking relics of antiquity now
extant.

I regret that I was tempted to avail myself
of an opportunity of returning to Madrid,
which left me too little time to devote to
Segovia. I arrived in Segovia about mid-day,
and chanced to learn that digallero, on springs,
would leave Segovia next morning, at four
o'clock, and reach Madrid the same day. To
walk once from the Escurial to Segovia, was
rather desirable than otherwise, but a repeti-
tion of the walk would have been tedious ;

362 SPAIN IN 1830.

and as no other conveyance was likely to leave
Segovia for some days, I agreed to be the
fifth passenger, and had therefore only a few
hours to devote to Segovia. But this time
sufficed for the aqueduct, the cathedral, and
the alcazar. The cathedral did not strike me
as being particularly interesting ; and with the
recollection which I now have before me, of
Toledo and Seville, the cathedral of Segovia
seems scarcely worth a notice. The Alcazar
pleased me more; but this too, after subse-
quently seeing the Alhambra of Granada,
appears insignificant.

Segovia is a decayed city, like most of the
other cities of Spain ; and if considered with
reference to its former opulence and conse-
quence, its decay is the more striking. Two
hundred years ago, the cloth manufactory of
Segovia gave employment to 34,000 hands,
and consumed nearly 25,000 quintals of wool ;
fifty years ago, these were reduced to a sixth
part; and now, the manufactory is in a state
of perfect abeyance, the trade having been
chiefly transferred to the kingdom of Valencia.
Ill this city, of twenty-five parishes, and con-

SPAIN IN 1S30. 363

taining twenty-one convents, the inhabitants
scarcely reach ten thousand.

The Posada in Segovia, I found remarkably
bad ; and the posadero seemed resolved to
give at least a fictitious value to his articles,
by the high price which he set upon them.
As I was to leave Segovia at the early hour of
four, I called for la cuenta before going to bed ;
and to my astonishment, three dollars were
demanded for my stewed rabbit, and a room
so full of mosquitos that I spent half the night
in planning warfare, and the other in execut-
ing slaughter. I told him no one would travel
in his country, if all the innkeepers charged
travellers as he did, — such charges would ruin
any body. And now the secret of his exorbi-
tant demand came out. " Oh, but," said he,
*'poor travellers don't ride upon the king's
horses, escorted by the king's servants ;" and
so my royal bearer, and his royal attendant,
cost me two dollars. I paid my money, and
consoled myself with thinking that it was })ro-
bably the last time I might bear a resemblance
to majesty.

At the appointed hour I took my place in

364

SPAIN IN 1830.

the gallero, smarting with mosquito bites,
and glad to rest from the work of destruc-
tion ; and after a drive along a road which
I already knew, I found myself in my apart-
ment in the Calle de la Madelina a little after
dusk.

CHAPTER XI.

TOLEDO.

Journey from Madrid; Proofs of the backwardness of Spain;
Appearance of the Country; Spanish Mule-driving; a Venta;
First View of Toledo ; Toledo Recreations and Society ;
Remains of Former Grandeur, and Proofs of Present Decay ;
Picturesque Views; theTagus; Intricacy of Toledo; Bigotry
and Priestcraft; Reasons for the Prevalence of Religious
Bigotry in Toledo ; Proofs of Bigotry ; Aspect of the Popu-
lation; the Cathedral and its Riches; Scene in the Cathedral;
the Alcazar ; Historical Retrospect ; Praiseworthy Institu-
tions of the Archbishop Lorenzana; the University; Toledo
Sword Manufactory ; the Franciscan Convent ; Return to
Madrid.

A few weeks before I visited Toledo, a pub-
lie conveyance had been for the first time
established between that city and the capital.
This conveyance left Madrid every alternate
day, and partook of the double nature of a

366 SPAIN IN 18;50.

waggon, and of a diligence : externally, it was
a waggon ; but seats within, and glass win-
dows, entitled it to the rank of a diligence.
I took my place in this vehicle, at four in the
morning, after having stumbled over more than
one person lying asleep on the pavement, in
groping my way through the streets from my
lodgings to the waggon office.

It is a striking commentary upon the back-
ward state of Spain, and the general want of
enterprise that distinguishes both the govern-
ment and the people, that there should be no
road from the capital, to the largest city lying
within a hundred miles of it — the ancient
metropolis of Spain; and yet such is the fact:
for although the conveyance I speak of makes
its way from Madrid to Toledo, a distance of
nearly sixty miles, in about fifteen hours, it
travels over any thing but a road, with the
exception of the first ten miles from Madrid :
after this, there is sometimes a visible track,
and sometimes none ; most commonly, we
passed over wide sands ; at other times over
ploughed fields, or meadows ; and it was not
until we arrived within half a league of Toledo,
that we again found a road.

SPAIN IN 18;J0. 3G7

The country between Madrid and Toledo,
1 need scarcely say, is ill peopled and ill cul-
tivated ; for it is all a part of the same arid
plain that stretches on every side around the
capital ; and which is bounded on this side,
by the Tagus. The whole of the way to
Toledo, I passed through only four incon-
siderable villages ; and saw two others at a
distance. A great part of the land is uncul-
tivated, covered with furze and aromatic
plants; but here and there some corn land is
to be seen, and I noticed one or two ploughs
in the fields ; these were worked by two
mules and one man, and seemed only to
scratch the soil. The great curse of every
part of Castile, is want of water ; in this
journey of sixty miles, I passed only two in-
significant brooks, — so very insignificant, that
a child might have dammed up either of them
in a few minutes with stones and sand : in
fact, from the Douro to the Tagus, there is
not a stream ancle deep, unless when swoln
by sudden floods.

I w^as much amused in this journey, by the
manner of driving our diligence. We had
seven excellent mules, which carried us the

368 SPAIN IN 1830.

whole way; and these were managed in the
true Spanish mode, which does not admit of
postilions. Two men sit in front ; one always
keeps his place, holding the reins, and guiding
the two nearest mules ; the other leaps from
his seat every few minutes, runs alongside the
mules, applies two or three lashes to each,
gets them into a gallop, and as they pass by,
he lays hold of the tail of the hindermost
mule, and whisks into his place, where he
remains until the laziness of the mules, or a
piece of level ground, again calls him into
activity. The sagacity of the mules struck
me as most extraordinary ; after being put
into a gallop, the three front mules were left
entirely to themselves ; and yet they unerr-
ingly discovered the best track; avoided the
greatest inequalities ; and made their turnings
with the utmost precision.

We stopped some time before mid-day at a
venta, to refresh the mules, the muleteers, and
the travellers ; who, besides myself, consisted
of three priests and one woman, the wife of a
tradesman in Toledo. This was one of those
ventas of which I had often heard, but had
not yet seen— where, in reply to the question,

SPAIN IN 1830. 369

'' what have you got to eat ?" you are answer-
ed, ''whatever you have brought with you."
For my part, I had brought nothing ; but the
clerigos had provided well against the assaults
of the flesh ; and a cold stew of various fowls
and bacon being produced by them, and
heated by the mistress of the venta, we made
a hearty and comfortable dinner ; and then
continued our journey.

Toledo is seen about a league before reach-
ing it; and, with the exception of Granada,
its situation is the most striking of any city
in Spain. Its fine irregular line of buildings
cover the summit and the upper part of a hill
of considerable elevation ; behind which, the
dark romantic range of the Toledo mountains
forms a majestic back-ground. Even at this
distance, Toledo is evidently no city of yester-
day ; for besides the innumerable towers of its
convents, churches, and stupendous cathedral
— the metropolitan of Spain — the outline is
broken by other buildings of a more grotesque,
or more massive form ; while here and there,
the still greater irregularity of the outline
points to ages too remote, to have left to

VOL. I. 2 b

370 SPAIN IN 1830.

modern times any other legacy than their
ruins. Toledo was still illuminated by the
setting sun when I caught the first view of it ;
but before arriving under its walls, all was
dusky, excepting the summits of the moun-
tains behind ; these still wore the purple
light of evening ; and the meanderings of the
Tagus, flowing westward, were also visible
beneath those bright orange tints that are
peculiar to Spanish skies.

I had no sooner secured a bed in the posada,
than I went to deliver my letters ; these were,
one to a gentleman, an employee, holding a
situation in the finance ; the other to a pre-
bendary, librarian of the cathedral. I was
received with the greatest civility by both ;
and after taking chocolate with the former, I
accompanied him to the castle, to be present
at what was considered quite an event in
Toledo : this chanced to be the king's birth-
day ; and in honour of it, the band of royalist
volunteers paraded the principal streets by
torch light ; and so monotonous a thing is life
in Toledo, that this occurrence produced quite
a sensation. It was scarcely possible to force
one's way through the narrow streets, which

SPAIN IN 1830. 371

were filled with a dense mass of people, almost
entirely men ; for the ancient Spanish customs
still attach to Toledo too much, to sanction
there the liberty which foreign usage has con-
ferred upon the women in most of the other
Spanish towns.

I must not omit a trifling fact, that throws
some light upon the state of feeling in Tole-
do. I had purchased a grey hat in Paris, and
had worn it constantly in Spain ; and although
I had heard in Madrid that the wearers of
white hats were looked upon with suspicion,
I had never suffered any interruption or insult
in consequence, excepting now and then a
scrutinizing look from some royalist volunteer
or police agent. But the gentleman to whom
I was recommended in Toledo, would not per-
mit me to go into the street in a grey hat ; he
said he could not answer for my safety ; and
while I remained in Toledo, he was so kind as
to equip me with a small round, high-crowned
hat, almost the only kind worn by its inha-
bitants.

The same evening that I arrived in Toledo,
I was presented at a tertulia, which is the sole
2 B 2

372 SPAIN IN 1830.

recreation of the inhabitants ; for there is no
public diversion of any kind : formerly there
was a theatre; but the canon, who was then at
the head of the university, obtained a royal
order to suppress it, and it has remained
closed ever since. Bull-fights even are for-
bidden in this priest-ridden city ; so that
unless processions of Saints and Virgins are
to be considered an amusement, the inhabit-
ants have positively no resource but in the
tertulia. Nowhere are Spanish customs seen
more pure than in Toledo ; and nowhere is
the monotony of the tertulia more striking.
The party assembled about nine, — there were
fifteen persons present, about one half of them
ladies. The sole amusement was talking, and
some of the party playing basto for a very low
stake ; and after a glass of agua fresca, the
party separated about eleven. In Toledo a
certain circle agrees to form a tertulia : one
house is selected, where it is to be held, — the
most central, perhaps, or the most conve-
nient; and the same individuals assemble at
the same house, and at the same hour, every
day throughout the year! This is Toledo
society.

SPAIN IN 1830. 373

The morning after my arrival in Toledo, I
rose early, anxious to see this ancient and
truly Spanish city ; and crossing the Plaza
Real, which, at the early hour of six, resounded
with the ringing of the blacksmith's hammers,
whose shops half monopolise the square, I
followed the widest street that presented it-
self; and after a steep descent, I found myself
at the eastern extremity of the town, and on
the bridge over the Tagus. It is impossible
to walk a step in Toledo, or to turn the eye in
any direction, without perceiving the remains
of former grandeur, and the proofs of present
decay : ruins are every where seen, —some,
the vestiges of empires past away, and whose
remains are crumbling into nothingness, — the
empires of Carthage and of Rome : other ves-
tiges,— those of an empire equally fallen, but
more visible, in the greater perfection of its
monuments, — the Empire of the Moors : and
still another class of ruins, — those more recent
emblems that record the decay of the Spanish
monarchy through the lapse of a hundred and
fifty years. Past magnificence and present
poverty are every where written in a hundred
forms, and in legible characters. But all this,

374 SPAIN IN 1830.

although offering to the reflecting mind an
impressive example of the '* sic transit gloria
mundi," gives to Toledo much of its peculiar
interest in the eye of a stranger ; and adds to
the picturesque and striking character of the
views presented from every quarter. Few of
these are finer than the view of this remark-
able city and its environs, from the bridge
over the Tagus, where my morning walk con-
ducted me.

The Alcazar, that immense pile, once the
residence of Moors, and subsequently of the
kings of Spain, forms one corner of the city.
The irregular and picturesque line of buildings,
at least one half of them convents, each with
its tower, and terrace, and hanging garden,
stretches along the summit of the hill, towards
the West ; while strewing the sides of the
steep acclivity, and mingled with the convent
gardens, are seen the remains of the Roman
walls that once entirely inclosed the city,
and that even yet, are in many places nearly
perfect. Withdrawing the eye from Toledo,
and looking across the bridge, an elevated
rocky mount presents itself, crowned with the
ruins of a Moorish castle ; and leaning on the

SPAIN IN i«;5o. 375

parapet, and looking towards the South, the
river is seen far below, flowing in a deep rocky-
channel, one of its banks being the hill upon
which the city stands, — and the other, the
North front of the Toledo mountains. The
peculiar situation of Toledo is best understood
from this point. The river Tagus, coming
from the westward, flows directly towards the
north-east corner of the city ; and in place of
continuing to flow in the same direction — by
which it would leave the city and its hill upon
the left, — it makes a sudden turn, sv/eeps
behind the city and its hill, and in front of the
Toledo mountains, — and after describing three
parts of a circle, it re-appears at the opposite
corner, and continues its course towards the
west. The course of the Tagus is singular ;
the Sierra de Albarracin, where it rises, is
no more than eighty miles from the Mediter-
ranean, in a straight line across Valencia ; but
the Tagus, taking an opposite direction, runs
a course of nearly six hundred miles to the
Atlantic, — traversing the interiorof Spain, pass-
ing into Portugal, and forming the glory and
the riches of its capital. It would be no diffi-
cult matter, to render the Tagus navigable

376 SPAIN IN 1830.

from Toledo to the sea, a distance of between
four and five hundred miles ; the passage was
attempted in the winter of 1829, by a boat
from Toledo, and succeeded, the boat having
arrived safely at Lisbon ; but this could not
have been done at any other season ; because
in dry weather, the water is in many places
almost wholly diverted from its natural chan-
nel, for the use of the mills that have been
erected upon its banks.

I endeavoured to find my way from the
bridge to the posada by a different road, — but
this was an attempt of some difficulty. I
believe there is no town in Europe in which it
is so difficult to find ones way, as in Toledo :
the streets are innumerable ; few of them are
more than three yards wide; they are steep,
tortuous and short, constantly branching off
at acute angles, so that all idea of direction
is soon lost; and there are no open spaces from
which some prominent object may be taken
as a guide. A gentleman who had resided
fourteen years in Toledo, told me that he was
not acquainted with half of the streets ; and
that it was no unusual occurrence to lose him-
self, in endeavouring to find near cuts from one

SPAIN IN 1830. 377

place to another. Although I arrived at the
posada two hours later than I expected, I had
nothing to regret in the delay ; my mistakes
having carried me through parts of the town
which I might not otherwise have had an op-
portunity of seeing.

Walking through Toledo, there is a subject
of more melancholy reflection than that which
arises from the vestiges of former greatness;
I mean, the abundant proofs of bigotry and
ignorance that are gathered at every step.
There is no city of Spain so entirely given up
to the domination of the priests and friars, as
Toledo; because there is no other city in which
these form so large a portion of the population,
or where the riches of the religious bodies are
so preponderating. Toledo, it is believed, once
contained 200,000 inhabitants ; forty or fifty
years ago, it contained, according to tiie
writers of those days, about 30,000 ; at this
day, its inhabitants do not exceed IG or 17,000;
but throughout this progressive decay, the con-
vents and churches, the priests and friars,
have continued undiminished : the cathedral
is still served by its forty canons, and fifty
prebendaries, and fifty chaplains ; the thirty-

378 SPAIN IN 1830.

eight parish churches and chapels, have still
their curates, and their assistants, and their
many dependents ; and the thirty-six convents
and monasteries, have yet their compliment of
friars and nuns. The revenues, indeed, of all
these religious bodies, have suffered some di-
minution during the last fifty years ; but this
diminution has been nothing in comparison
with the decrease in the resources of all the
other classes of inhabitants. The revenues of
the archbishop amounted fifty years ago, to
seven millions of reals, (70,000/. sterling); at
present they do not exceed four millions of
reals, (40,000/. sterling) : the incomes of the
canons amounted, at the former period, to at
least eighty thousand reals (or 800/. sterling) ;
now, they scarcely reach one half of this sum :
all these diminutions are the result of the fall
in the price of corn, in which their revenues
are computed. But the incomes of the curates
of the parishes are still more reduced, many of
the parishes having entirely fallen into decay :
there are some, in which there are not now
twenty inhabited houses ; so that the curates
of these, are in a state of absolute destitution.
The revenues of the convents have of course

SPAIN IN 1830. 379

suffered a diminution proportionate to that
which has affected the church. But notwith-
standing this decrease in the revenues of the
religious bodies, these are still sufficiently
great, to create an overwhelming interest in a
city whose inhabitants scarcely quadruple the
number of those who live by these revenues.
In fact the whole city, with the exception of
the government employees, lives by these re-
venues. Many are directly benefited by their
collection, their management, and by the hus-
bandry of the land that produces them ; while
their disbursement must necessarily benefit
every class of men who administer either to
the necessities, or the luxuries of life. But
besides the effect which self-interest has in
supporting the influence of priestcraft in To-
ledo, other reasons may be assigned for its
preponderance.

The geographical position of Toledo is highly
favourable to the success of this jugglery ;
for, with sufficient resources in the territory
that lies along the Tagus, and with no passable
road or navigation of any kind to other towns,
the inhabitants have scarcely any intercourse
with strangers, — none whatever with foreigners.

380 SPAIN IN 1830.

The immense number of priests and friars,
also, who may all be considered spies upon
the lives of the inhabitants ; and the great and
secret influence of the archbishop, cannot fail
to act as obstacles to the progress of infor-
mation, both by reading and conversation :
and, indeed, there is in Toledo a species of
religious espionnage, which is, in fact, a rem-
nant of the Inquisition : certain friars call
every Monday morning, at every house, to
receive the certificates of confession which
have been given to the inmates, if they have
confessed the day before. And I must not
omit to mention, as another cause of the pre-
ponderance of priestly influence in Toledo,
the greater correctness exhibited in the lives
of the religious orders in this city, than in the
other cities of Spain ; and the larger alms
given by the convents. With the exception
of some whispers respecting the canons and
prebendaries, who were said to be remarkable
for the number of infant nephews, nieces, and
cousins, whom they had humanely taken
under their fatherly protection, I heard not
one insinuation against any other of the reli-
gious orders.

SPAIN IN 1830. 381

The great respect, or rather veneration, in
which the religious bodies, — especially the
friars, — are held in Toledo, as well as many-
other proofs of the bigotry of the inhabitants,
are every where visible. A Franciscan friar,
or any monk belonging to one of the poor and
self-denying orders, receives some obeisance
from every one, as he passes along the street ;
even the portly canon or prebendary, who
bears about with him the evidences of self-
indulgence in place of self-denial, receives
some token of respect : every shop is provided
with a saint in a niche, to bless its gains ; and
upon every second or third door, a paper is
seen with these words printed upon it, —
Maria Santa Purissima, sin Pecado concebida.
In the respect too which is paid by the inhabit-
ants to religious processions, abundant proof
is afforded of the superstition that still clings
to the people of Toledo. I happened to be in
the neighbourhood of the Carmelite convent
when the procession of St. Theresa issued
from it. This is the patron saint of the con-
vent, and her image was carried through the
streets, followed by a multitude of friars : it
is considered a mark of devotion, to carry a

382

SPAIN IN 1830.

lighted candle upon such occasions ; and 1
noticed many persons bearing candles, who,
by their dress and general appearance, must
have belonged to the middle classes. In the
open court in front of the convent, there were
not less than 2,000 persons collected ; and
when the image was carried past, I did not
see a single individual in any other position
than upon his knees.

Another time, walking in the neighbourhood
of the city, on the road, or rather track,
across the mountains, I observed two uni-
versity students, seventeen or eighteen years
of age, busily employed in collecting stones,
and laying them upon a cross erected by the
wayside in commemoration of a murder, — and
with each stone muttering a prayer. I did
not, at that time, understand the meaning of
this strange occupation ; but I afterwards
learned, that in virtue of some ancient papal
authority, a certain indulgence is granted for
every stone laid on the cross of a murdered
man, if accompanied by a prayer.

The general aspect of the population of
Toledo is intensely Spanish ; there is no ad-
mixture of foreign, or even of modern innova-

SPAIN IN 18.30. 383

tion, to be seen. Men of all ranks wear the
cloak ; and the small round, high-crowned,
Spanish hat, is worn not only by the pea-
santry, but almost universally, by persons of
all classes. Among the women, no colours
are to be seen ; black is the universal dress ;
and scarcely any one enters a church unveiled.
Largely as the friars enter into the street
population of Madrid, they enter far more
largely into that of Toledo. In Madrid they
are spread over a greater surface. In Toledo,
the only lounge is the Plaza Real ; and there,
at certain hours, particularly about two
o'clock, it seems almost like a convent hall of
recreation, and a sacristy of a cathedral united ;
for canons, and prebendaries, and curates, and
twenty different orders of friars, are seen
standing in groups, strolling under the piazzas,
or seated upon benches, refreshing themselves
with melons or grapes. There cannot be a
more perfect realization of the conception of
*' fat, contented ignorance," than the Plaza
Real of Toledo presents every day after din-
ner. Not many poor are to be seen among
the population of Toledo ; it has now dwindled
down to that point, at which the wants of the

384 SPAIN IN 1830.

church, the university, and the convents, can
sustain it : beyond this number there are few ;
and those few are supported by church and
convent alms : the only beggars I saw, were
three or four women, who sat at the gate of
the cathedral.

I was not long in Toledo before visiting its
cathedral, which has no rival but the cathedral
of Seville, in its claims to be the greatest and
the most magnificent of Gothic temples. All
the cathedrals I had ever before seen, shrunk
into insignificance when I entered the cathe-
dral of Toledo. The following are the dimen-
sions of this majestic pile. The interior of the
church is four hundred and eight feet long,
and two hundred and six feet wide ; and the
height of the aisles is one hundred and sixty
feet. The columns that run along the aisles
are forty-five feet round : there are sixty-
eight painted windows; and surrounding the
choir, and the Altar Major, there are one
hundred and fifty-six marble and porphyry
pillars. I was not able to see the Precioci-
dades the first day I went to the cathedral :
to be so specially favoured, a separate order
was required ; and I returned accordingly the

SPAIN IN 1830. 385

following morning by appointment. I do not
mean to enumerate the different articles that
compose the riches of the cathedral of Toledo
— the richest in the world — but I shall men-
tion a very few of the most remarkable. I saw
the Virgin's mantle, — one mass of precious
stones, especially pearls, of which there must
have been thousands, if not millions : I saw
many images of pure gold, studded with pre-
cious stones : I saw the Virgin's crown, also
of pure gold, but entirely covered with the
largest and most brilliant jewels, — sapphires,
emeralds, rubies, and diamonds; and sur-
mounted by an emerald of most extraordinary
size and beauty ; the image which upon high
days is arrayed in all this finery, is of silver.
There is another room, called the custodla, in
which I saw innumerable urns of pure gold,
most of them studded with precious stones ;
and which contain relics ; these I did not ask
to see, but I was informed that there are few
saints in the calendar, of whom this the relicary
of Toledo does not contain something. The
value of the gold and silver might be easily
ascertained; but the value of jewels is more
VOL. 1. 2 c

386 SPAIN IN 1830.

capricious : I was told, however, that every
article is inventoried and valued, in a book
kept for that purpose; and although my in-
formant did not state to me the precise amount
noted in the book, he said it exceeded forty
millions of ducats (10,000,000/. sterling) :
whether the value of the relics be included
in this estimate, I cannot tell. This is a
melancholy waste of property ; and when, in
connexion with this, we view the deplorable
condition of Spain, we naturally inquire whe-
ther the judicious employment of this wealth
could materially better that condition. Un-
doubtedly it might accomplish much ; and
had the whole inert wealth of Spain been
directed a hundred years ago into useful chan-
nels, Spain would at this day have been a
more enlightened and a more flourishing coun-
try ; but Spain could never have been made
one continued garden, as some writers have
supposed ; because the wealth of the world
could never charge Castilian skies with rain-
clouds ; force springs to bubble from sandy
deserts ; or clothe with soil, the rocky Sierras
that half cover the Peninsula.

The wealth of the cathedral of Toledo had

SPAIN IN 1830. 387

a narrow escape from the rapacity of the
French : upon their approach, the archbishop
— not the present, but the last archbishop —
carried away the whole of the portable articles
to Cadiz, and thus saved them : the heavier
articles remained in their places; and the
French when they took possession of Toledo,
asked one fourth part of their value ; but a
much less sum was offered, and accepted,
viz. 90 arrobas, or 2250 lbs. of silver — a mere
trifle, scarcely equalling the value of one of
the precious stones.

But the preciocidades, and marbles, and
porphyries, and paintings, are not, in my
eyes, the most interesting features of the ca-
thedral of Toledo: its immensity, its grandeur,
are its glories. The lofty and majestic aisles
— the massive and far-stretching columns of a
temple like this, seem almost to shadow forth
the imperishable nature of the religion whose
sanctuary they adorn and uphold. The longer
we contemplate the vastness and majesty
around, the mind is more and more filled with
awe, and lifted from the insignificance of life
to a sense of the greatness and solemn gran-
2c 2

388 SPAIN IN 1830.

deur of eternity ; we are filled with enthusiasm
and admiration, — enthusiasm the more lofty,
because it is mingled with religion ; and
admiration the more profound, since it is
mixed with astonishment, that so frail a crea-
ture as man should be able to perpetuate his
memory for ever. While I remained in To-
ledo, I spent a part of every day in the cathe-
dral ; and every evening, about sunset, I
strolled through the aisles. These visits will
not soon be forgotten, for it is but rarely that
life gathers such subjects of remembrance.
The last evening I remained in Toledo, I
walked into the cathedral sometime after sun-
set, — it was the latest visit I had made to it :
the interior was all wrapped in deep dusk ; —
the lofty aisles stretched darkly beyond, only
shewn by a solitary lamp burning before the
shrine of some inferior saint, — its ineffectual
light dimly falling athwart the gloom ; the
painted windows had ceased to throw their
gorgeous hues within, — but a speckled and
faintly-coloured gleam fell upon the upper part
of the columns. Two candles burnt before the
Altar Major ; and in the distance, at the far-
thest extremity of the church, a bright red

SPAIN IN 1830. 389

blaze flashed across the aisle, and between the
massive pillars, — throwing their broad shadows
across the marble-chequered floor of the
church : this was the chapel of the miraculous
image, lighted up with an infinity of tapers, —
and the only sound to be heard, save my own
footstep, was the distant hum of prayer from
the many devotees prostrated before her shrine.
Here and there, as I walked through the
aisles, I saw a solitary kneeler at the altar of a
favourite saint ; and at some of the remotest
and obscurest spots, a cloaked caballero was
waiting for good or for evil.

I dedicated my second morning in Toledo
to the Alcazar, one of the most striking objects
in the city, from almost M'hatever quarter it is
viewed. This massive fabric was once the re-
sidence of the Moorish kings, and more lately
of the Castilian sovereigns. It was in the
reign of Charles V. that the present south and
north fronts were erected, the former by Her-
rera. The whole building is now^ in a state of
decay, — these magnificent fronts arc falling
into ruin; and the inside of the edifice is no
longer habitable ; one wing only, which is
still entire, is used as a prison. When Toledo

390 SPAIN IN 1830.

ceased to be the metropolis of Spain, the Al-
cazar was converted into a workhouse, and
more lately it was employed as a silk manu-
factory. The archbishop undertook the estab-
lishment of this from humane motives, but
the undertaking proved a failure ; and it is
probable that the Alcazar will now be de-
livered over to the hand of time.

Among other parts of the Alcazar, I visited
the vaults, which are of immense extent, and
open to the public, but are put to no use what-
ever : in one of the vaults, a party of gipsies
had made their quarters ; they had lighted a
large fire, around which some lay sleeping;
and one woman was employed in cooking.
The grotesque and ragged figures of the gip-
sies, and the high vault illuminated by the red
flare, reminded me of the strong lights, and
picturesque groups of the Spanish painters.

Standing in front of the Alcazar, with the
terrace which overlooks the city and the sur-
rounding country — with ruins of Roman walls,
and Moorish castles at my feet — and with the
palace of three races of kings behind ; it was
impossible to avoid a retrospect of the past
history of this remarkable city. More than

SPAIN IN 1830. 391

two centuries before the birth of Christ, Toledo
was added by Hannibal to the empire of the
Carthagenians ; and after being subsequently
a part of the Roman empire, it was wrested
from the dominion of Rome, by Eurico, king
of the Goths, in the year 467. It continued
subject to the Gothic line nearly two hundred
and fifty years ; when the Moors, after having
subdued the greater part of Spain, and reduced
most of the principal cities, invested Toledo,
and captured it in 714. In the year 1085,
after Toledo had remained under the sove-
reignty of the Moors between three and four
hundred years, Alonzo VI., and Rodrigo Diaz
— the Cid, expelled the Moors from its walls;
and from that period, until the expulsion of
the Moors from Spain, Toledo was alternately
a stronghold of the Castilians, and of the
Moors. And, even after the settlement of
Spain, it became the head of an insurrection,
which convulsed Castile during twenty-two
years; whose object was, to restrict the privi-
leges of the nobles, and, in fact, to re-model
in many respects the constitution of Castile:
but, in the year 1522, Toledo submitted to the
crown ; and since that period, its history has

392 SPAIN IN 1830.

been only remarkable as recording in succes-
sive steps of decay, the gradual decline of the
Spanish monarchy.

But, although Toledo is chiefly interesting,
for its monuments of past glory and prosperity,
it is not without some excellent and flourish-
ing institutions even at this day. All of this
kind that Toledo possesses, is the work of the
late Archbishop Lorenzana, a man of very
opposite character from the prelate who, at
present wields the sceptre of the church.
Lorenzana was an able man, and an excellent
ecclesiastic ; and gave practical evidence of
his goodness in the many excellent institutions
which he founded. Among these, I was par-
ticularly pleased with the lunatic asylum, — a
noble edifice, and perfect in all its arrange-
ments. The spectacles revealed in a mad-
house, are never agreeable ; but they are
sometimes interesting, and here, there were
several of this character. 1 was conducted to
the cell of one person, whose insanity arose
from erroneous views of religion. The walls
were entirely covered with drawings in chalk,
executed with great spirit, and representing
funerals, tombs, death heads, devils, religious

SPAIN IN 1830. 393

processions, priests, and ceremonies. Another,
certainly a most interesting object, I saw in
the large hall, where the inoffensive maniacs
are permitted to be at large ; this was a
middle-aged woman, seated upon the ledge of
the window, her eyes intently fixed upon the
sky ; she was a native of a village on the coast
of Murcia, which had been destroyed by the
earthquake the autumn before : she had been
at a neighbouring hamlet selling dates ; and
on her return to her village, she had seen her
home, and with it, her children, swallowed
up : she had never spoken from that hour, and
all day long she sat on the window ledge of
this hall gazing upon the sky ; and every day
the strength of two persons was required to
take her from the window to dinner. I shall
only mention one other individual, whose case
is interesting, as throwing light upon Spanish
morals and justice. This was also a woman,
but in her perfect senses ; she had lived with
her aunt, who was housekeeper to a canon in
Toledo; and the canon had seduced her.
Instigated by revenge, or hatred, she after-
wards cut his throat during the night ; and
the public authorities, unwilling to expose

394 SPAIN IN 1830.

the affair, by bringing her to trial, ascribed
the act to a fit of madness, and sent her to
the asylum.

The handsome edifice now occupied by the
university, is another act of Lorenzana. The
University of Toledo dates its origin from the
time of the Moors ; and was revived after their
expulsion, in the year 1529. At present, it
is chiefly celebrated as a law university ; the
number of students on its books, at the time
I visited Toledo, was rather more than seven
hundred ; and I was informed that nine-tenths
of these were law students, and that, of the
remaining tenth, only eight were students of
the theological classes. When speaking of
the education of members of the liberal pro-
fessions, I detailed the course of study re-
quired of the law student in this university.

Lorenzana also established a college for
girls, chiefly the children of officers and em-
ployees ; here they are well educated in every
useful and ornamental branch of education —
and here they may remain all their lives, at
the charge of government, if they neither
marry, nor choose to go into a convent. By
a fundamental rule laid down by the founder,

SPAIN IN 1830. 395

a small dowry is given to every one who mar-
ries, but nothing is given to carry into a con-
vent. Formerly, there used to be tertulias
here every evening, at which the students of
the university were welcome visitors ; but the
entree of the colegio is now forbidden to all
students, even to those who reside in Toledo
with their families. When I visited this in-
stitution, there were twenty-seven young
ladies: ten had been married the year before;
and 1 understand, very few disappoint the in-
tentions of the founder by going into con-
vents.

From all antiquity the Spaniards have been
celebrated for the manufacture of steel arms ;
and a *' Toledo blade" long has been, and still
is, an expression implying excellence. The
celebrated sword manufactory, to which I
walked one afternoon, lies about three quarters
of a league from the city, close to the river,
which is required for working the machinery.
It is a building of extraordinary extent, com-
prising within it not only the forges, work-
shops, and depositories of arms ; but also
accommodations of every kind for those em-
ployed in the manufactory, who, in former

396 SPAIN IN 1830.

times, were extremely numerous. I visited
every part of the establishment, and saw the
progress of the manufactory throughout all its
stages. The flexibility and excellent temper of
the blades are surprising ; there are two trials
which each blade must undergo before it be
pronounced sound, — the trial of flexibility,
and the trial of temper. In the former it is
thrust against a plate on the wall, and bent
into an arc, at least three parts of a circle. In
the second, it is struck edgeways upon a
leaden table, with the whole force which can
be given by a powerful man, holding it with
both hands. The blades are polished upon a
wheel of walnut wood ; and when finished, are
certainly beautiful specimens of the art.

The manufactory once employed many hun-
dred hands ; but it has long been on the de-
cline ; and at present, only fifty workmen are
required ; these finish about eight thousand
swords in the year. They work by piece,
and make about one hundred reals per week
(20-y.), and some of the most industrious work-
men, twenty-four reals more. Before the
separation of the colonies, twenty-five more
workmen were employed. They generally

I

SPAIN IN 1830. 397

keep a stock three years in advance ; but
owing to the recent and unexpected equip-
ment of two regiments of guards, the number
of swords when I walked through the maga-
zine, was only twenty thousand.

Returning to the city from the manufactory,
I visited the Franciscan convent; once an
immense pile, but now partly in ruins, — the
effect of war. It is still however a fine
building, and of great extent ; and the alms
of the devout have been so liberally bestowed,
that I found them busily employed in raising
a new and magnificent edifice upon the ruins
of that which had been destroyed. Finding
the gate of the convent open, I walked in, and
ascending a stair, reached the dormitory of
the monks without any one questioning me.
The Franciscans do not earn their reputation
for self-denying sanctity, without working for
it. Judging by the cells which I saw in this
convent, I may say, that if their comforts by
day, are no greater than those provided for
night, their lives are truly lives of penance
and mortification. Near to the Franciscan
convent are the remains of a Roman amphi-
theatre ; but even these remains are fast dis-
appearing.

398 SPAIN IN 1830.

I had spent five days in Toledo greatly to
my satisfaction. From both of the gentlemen
to whom I had carried introductions, I re-
ceived constant civilities : with the one,
I drank chocolate every evening, and found
in his son an admirable cicerone, — in himself,
an intelligent companion, — and in his wife
and daughter, obliging and delightful triflers.
From the other (the prebendary), I received
the unusual compliment of being invited to
dinner, — a dinner, as Dr. Johnson would have
said, such as was fit to invite a man to eat.
The chief dish was a roasted ham, which I had
never before seen, — but which I beg to recom-
mend to the attention of all who are not above
the enjoyment of dining well. This is not an
unusual dish in Spain, when it is intended to
treat a guest well. I had afterwards, at Va-
lencia, the pleasure of having my recollection
of the prebendary's dinner agreeably refreshed.

I had now gratified my curiosity at Toledo,
and proposed returning to Madrid by the same
conveyance that had brought me ; but I found
that it was all engaged by churchmen ; and
that another extra conveyance was also engaged
by them : a canon had died, and half the clergy

SPAIN IN 1830. 399

of Toledo were going to Madrid to sue for his
place. I obtained a seat in a galera, in which
there were five priests, and I was much
amused with the freedom and good humour
with which they spoke of their pretensions
and hopes ; and upon this occasion, these
were more than usually uncertain, because no
one knew with whom the patronage lay. The
appointment of canons to the cathedral of
Toledo is shared between the king and the
archbishop ; seven months in the year belong
to the king, and five to the archbishop. This
was the first canon who had died during the
seven months that belong to the king ; but the
patronage of the last appointment, about two
months before, which had belonged to the
archbishop, had been ceded by him to the king
for some particular reason, in the understand-
ing however that the first vacancy, during
the next seven months, should be filled up by
the archbishop ; but the question was, whether
his majesty would recollect his royal promise.
For my part, I heartily wished he might ; for
among the five candidates who were my com-
panions, one only seemed to stand in need of
a better served table than he was accustomed

400 SPAIN IN 18:50.

to, — and he, as the muleteer told me, was a
distant relation of the archbishop ; but perhaps
it was as likely that the archbishop might
forget his relation, as that the king might
forget his promise.

Either our mules were less sagacious, or
our drivers less expert than those entrusted
with the care of the galera that had brought
me to Toledo ; for, descending a steep sand-
bank, about two leagues from the city, the
conversation of the clerigos was suddenly and
disagreeably interrupted by the vehicle being
thrown over. The sand, however, was so
deep that no one sustained any injury ; and
after the little delay occasioned by putting the
galera upright, the journey and the conversa-
tion were resumed together, and we reached
Madrid without any farther hindrance.

END OF VOL. I.

Printed by S. Manning & Co., London-lionse-yard, St. Paul's

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